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SONGS Compleat, 

Pleasant and Divertive ; 


M U S I C K 

and other Excellent Masters of the Town. 

Ending with some ORATIONS, made and 
spoken by me several times upon the 
gether with some Copies of VERSES, PRO 
LOGUES, and EPILOGUES, as well for my 
own PLAYS as those of other Poets, being 
all Humerous and Comical. 



Printed by W. Pearson, for J. Tonson, at 
SHAKESPEAR'S Head, against Catherine 
Street in the Strand, 1719. 


Alphabetical TABLE 



Contained in this 


A Page 

APalphry Proud, priced up, 10 

A Maiden of late, whose Namt^ 22 

Arise, arise, my Juggy, my Puggy, 44 

A Doctor without any Stomach^ 50 

A Pox upon this cursed Life, 63 

A restless Lover I esfiy'd, 115 

A Shepherd set him under a Thorn , 136 

All in a misty Morning, 148 

A late Expedition to Oxford, 174 

As I came from Tottingham, 179 

A lusty young Smith at his Vice, \ 95 

All Hail to the Days that merit, 241 

Ah cruel bloody Fate, what carfst, 284 

As fair Olinda sitting was, 298 

All my past Life is mine no more", 306 

Ah ! Chloris awake, 314 

A lass / my poor tender Henri. 346 


An Alphabetical TABLE. 


th Jockey Young and Gay, 271 

Bless Mortals, bless the clearing, 286 

COme listen, good People, the whilst, \ 5 

Come my Hearts of Gold, 47 

Cook Lorrel would needs have the, 101 

Courtiers, Courtiers, think it no harm, 142 

Could Man his Wish obtain, 237 

Caelia, that I once was blest, 258 

Come all the Youths whose Hearts, 283 

Come Fair one be kind, 339 

DID not you hear, 243 

Dermot lov'd Shela well and, 325 

Dolly, come be Brisk and Jolly, 331 


in* Arly in the dawning of a, 232 


FArewel Three Kings, where I, 6 

Fly merry News among the Crews^ 1 77 

Farweel bonny Wully Craig, 250 

Farewel the Darling Shades I love, 240 

For Iris / sigh and hourly die, 247 

Fancelia's Heart is still the same, 304 

Fly from Olinda young and fair, 305 

Foolish Swain thy sighs forbear, 349 

GOod People all, I pray give Ear, 4 

God prosper long our Noble King, 289 

Go tell Amyntor gentle Swain, 302 


HAppy the Time when free from, 251 

Happy is the Country Life, 288 

Here's a Health to those Men, 341 



y LL Sing in the Praise, ifyorfll, 12 

I'll tell you a Story, a Story anon, 29 


An Alphabetical TABLE. 

Jenny long resisted Wully's fierce Desire, 65 

Jockey late with Jenny walking, 90 

If any one long for a Musical Song, 92 

/ am a Lover, and 'tis true, 104 

/ have been East, and I have, 106 

I find I am a Cuckold, I care, 108 

If every Woman was. serif d in, no 

I prithee Sweet-heart grant me my, 1 1 2 

In Summer time when Flowers, 122 

// is my Delight both Night and, 127 

Joan to the May-Pole away let's run, 145 

In fifty-five, may I never thrive, 169 

If 't please you for jo hear, 192 

In our Country, and in your Country, 196 

Instead of our Buildings and Castles, 200 

I'll sing you a Song of my, 213 

/ a tender young Maid have been, 2 1 6 

In the World can ever a Trade, 219 

In the Gar diners Paradise sweetly, 221 

Jogging on from yonder Green, 229 

In the Shade iipon the Grass, 250 

In Courts, Ambition kills the great, 255 

In Paul's Church-yard in London, 263 

/ never saw a Face till now, 303 

In vain she frowns, in vain, 308 

In the long Vocation, 317 



ate, the loveliest thing, 

Katy's a Beauty surpassing, 

LAdy, sweet now do not frown, 80 

Ladys, why doth Love torment you, 82 

Listen Lordlings to my Story, 85 

Long have I grieved for to see, 86 

Let Monarchs fight for Pow'r, 227 

Let the Soldiers rejoyce, 277 

Lovely Laurinda ! blame not me, 309 

Let Totnam Court and Islington, 326 


An Alphabetical TABLE, 


MY Masters and Friends, and good \ 2O 

My Masters and Friends, and good. 23 

My pretty Maid, fain would I know, 7 1 

My Mistress is a Hive of Bees in, 73 

My Mother she will not endure, 75 

My Mind to me a Kingdom is, 88 

Maids are grown so Coy of late, 95 

My Lord's Son must not be forgot, 123 


NOw listen again to those things, 34 

Now Gentlemen sit ye all Merry, 49 

Not long ago as all alone I lay, 77 

Now all my Friends are laid in, 1 16 

Now fie upon a Jealous Brain, 1 1 8 

Nothing than Chloe e'er I knew, 209 

Now every Place, fresh Pleasure yields, 299 


OH London is a fine Town, 40 

Oh the Miller, the dusty, 61 

Oh, oh lead me, lead me to some> 126 

O Love is longer than the way, 1 3 1 

One Evening a little before it was dark, i 39 

On Enfield Common, / met a Woman, 224 

One Sunday after Mass, Dormet and, 278 

Oh / happy, happy Groves, 310 

On Brandon Heath, in sight of, 344 


PRey lend me your Ear if you've, 1 8 

Pan leave Piping, the Gods have, 26 

Prithee Friend leave off thy Thinking, 79 

Pillycock came to my Lady's Toe, 311 

Poor Cleonice thy Garlands tear, 337 


SO me Christian People all give ear, \ 

Since Pop'ry of late is so much, 32 

Some Years of late, in Eighty Eight, 37 

Shall I wasting in Despair, \ 20 

Some Wives are Good, and some. 181 


An Alphabetical TABLE, 

Still I'm Wishing, still desiring, 262 

Smiling Phillis has an Air so, 281 

Spare mighty Love, oh spare, 342 

THO' it may seem rude, 38 

There was an Old Woman, 45 

To Hunt the Fox is an Old Sport, 55 

There was a Maid the other Day, $7 

The? bootless I must needs Complain, 59 

They say the World is full of Pelf, 69 

There was a Lady in the North, 1 30 

There was a Lass in Cumberland, 1 33 

The Wit hath long beholding been, 157 

The Beard thick or thin, 1 60 

This is a Structure fair, 1 66 

TJiere were too Bumpkins lov'd, 171 

To charming Caelia's Arms I flew, 185 

There was a Man, a Shentleman, 187 

To find my Tom of Bedlam, 1 89 

The Devil he was so Weather beat, 198 

The Weather's too bleak now, 205 

These London Wenches are so stout, 206 

There lately was a Maiden Fair, 210 

There is one black and sullen, 256 

Three merry Lads met at the Rose, 259 

The Fire of Love in Youthful Blood, 265 

Tho* the Pride of my Passion fair. 301 

Thursday in the Morn, 334 

The mighty state of Cuckoldom, 336 

Take not the first Refusal ill, 352 



Pon a time I chanced to walk, 67 

Under this Stone lies one, 328 

Upon the Wings of Love my, 348 


WHcn Rich Men die, whose Purses, 8 

Will you please to give car a while. 52 

When Ize came first to London Town, 96 

What tho 1 I am a Country Lass, 152 

Was ever a Man so vc.vt with- 155 


An Alphabetical TABLE. 

What Creature's that with his, 173 

While the Citizens prate, 183 

Women are wanton, yet cunningly, 201 

What if Betty grows old, 203 

Whafs a Cuckold, learn of me, 208 

When Sawney first did Wooe me, 212 

What need we take care for, 2 1 5 

Well Pll say that for Sir William, 223 

What shall I do to shew how, 235 

Why does the Morn in Blushes rise, 239 

When Aureliayfrj/ / courted, 249 

Whilst Europe is alarm 'd with, 253 

When Troy Town for Ten Years Wars, 266 

Why should we boast 0/Lais, 273 

When Cupid from his Mother fled, 280 

When I see my Strephon languish, 307 


\7Our Courtiers scorn we Country, 99 

JL You Maidens and Wives, 163 

Young Phaon strove the Bliss to taste, 287 


SONGS Compleat, 

Pleasant and Divertive, &c. 


Three Children Sliding on the THAMES 

I JJ1JJOME Christian People all give Ear 

* * Unto the Grief of us, 

* Caus ' d b y tne Death of three Children dear, 
* The which it happen'd thus. 


VOL. iv. 

SONGS Compleat, 

And eke there befel an Accident, 

By fault of a Carpenter's Son ; 
Who to saw Chips his sharp Ax lent, 

Woe worth the time, may Lon 

May London say, Woe worth the Carpenter, 

And all such Blockhead Fools ; 
Would he were hang'd up like a Serpent here, 

For Jesting with Edge Tools. 

For into the Chips there fell a spark, 

Which put out in such Flames ; 
That it was known into Southwark, 

Which lives beyond the Thames. 

For lo the Bridge was wondrous high, 

With Water underneath ; 
O'er which as many Fishes fly, 

As Birds therein do Breath. 

And yet the Fire consum'd the Bridge, 

Not far from place of Landing ; 
And tho' the Building was full big, 

It fell down Notwithstanding. 

And eke into the Water fell 

So many Pewter Dishes ; 
That a Man might have taken up very well 

Both Boyl'd, and Roasted Fishes. 

And thus the Bridge of London Town, 

For Building that was sumptuous ; 
Was all by Fire half Burnt down, 

For being too contemptuous. 

And thus you have all but half my Song, 

Pray list to what comes after ; 
For now I have Cool'd you with the Fire, 

I'll Warm you with the Water. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 3 

I'll tell you what the River's Name is, 

Where these Children did slide a; 
It was fair London's swiftest Thames, 

That keeps both Time and Tide a. 

All on the Tenth of January, 

To Wonder of much People ; 
'Twas Frozen o'er that well 'twould bear, 

Almost a Country Steeple. 

Three Children Sliding thereabout, 

Upon a place too Thin ; 
That so at last it did fall out, 

That they did all fall In. 

A great Lord there was that laid with the King, 
And with the King great Wager makes ; 

But when he saw he could not Win, 
He Sigh'd and would have drawn Stakes. 

He said it would bear a Man for to slide, 

And laid a Hundred Pound ; 
The King said it would break, and so it did, 

For Three Children there were Drown'd. 

Of which One's Head was from his Shoulder 
Ears stricken whose Name was John ; 

Who then Cry'd out as loud as he cou'd, 
O Lon-a Lon-a London. 

tut-tut-turn from thy Sinful Race, 
Thus did his Speech decay ; 

1 Wonder that in such a Case, 

He had no more to say. 

And thus being drown'd a-lack, a-!ack, 
The Water ran down their Throats ; 

And stops their Breaths Three Hours by the Clock, 
Before they could get any Boats. 

B 2 Ye 

SONGS Compleat, 

Ye Parents all that Children have, 

And ye that have none yet ; 
Preserve your Children from the Grave, 

And teach them at Home to sit. 

For had these at a Sermon been, 

Or else upon Dry Ground ; 
Why then I would never have been seen, 

If that they had been Drown'd. 

Even as a Huntsman ties his Dogs, 
For fear they should go from him ; 

So tie your Children with Severities Clog, 
Untie 'em, and you'll undo 'em. 

God Bless our Noble Parliament, 
And rid them from all Fears ; 

God Bless th' Commons of this Land, 
And God Bless some o'th' Peers. 

PHIL. PORTER'S Farewel. To the same Tune. 

GOOD People all, I pray give Ear, 
My Words concern ye much ; 
I will repeat a Hector's Life, 
Pray God ye be not such. 

There was a Gallant in the Town, 

A Brave and Jolly Sporter ; 
Ther was no Lady in the Land, 

But he knew Jiow to Court her. 

His Person Comely was and Tall, 
More Comely have been few Men ; 

Which made him well belov'd of Men, 
But more belov'd of Women. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 5 

Besides all this, I can you tell, 

That he \vas well Endowed 
With many Graces of the Mind, 

Had they been well bestowed. 

He was as Liberal as the Sun, 

His Gold he freely spent ; 
Whether it were his own Estate, 

Or that it were him lent. 

For Valour he a Lyon was, 

I say a Lyon bold ; 
For he no Living Man did Fear, 

That Sword in Hand did hold. 

And when that he with glittering Blade, 

Did e'er assail his Foes \ 
Full well I tro, they did not miss 

Their Belly full of Blows. 

A French Man once assaulted him, 

And told him that he Ly'd ; 
For which with Quart pot he him slew, 

And so the French Man Dy'd, 

Three Danes, Six Germans, and Five Swedes, 

Met him in Lane of Drury ; 
Who cause they took of him the Wall, 

He Kill'd them in his Fury. 

Upon his Body welladay, 

Full many a Scar he bore ; 
His Skin did look like Sattin Pinck'd, 

With Gashes many a Score. 

Oh ! had he lost that Noble Blood 

For Country's Liberty ; 
Where could all England then have found 

So brave a Man as he ? 


SONGS Compleat, 

But Woe is me these Virtues great, 

Were all Eclips 'd with Vice ; 
Just so the Sun that new Shines bright, 

Is darkn'd in a trice. 

For he did Swagger, Drink and Game, 

Indeed what would he not \ 
His Psalter and his Catechise 

He utterly forgot. 

But he is gone, and we will let 

No more of him be said ; 
They say 'tis naught for to reveal 

The Vices of the Dead. 

Besides we have some cause to think 
That he may 'scape Tormenting ; 

For the Old Nurse that Watch'd with him, 
Did say he Dy'd Repenting. 

The Second PART. 

FArewel Three Kings, where I have spent 
Full many an Idle Hour ; 
Where oft I Won, but never Lost, 
If 'twere within my Power. 

Where the Raw Gallants I did chuse, 

Like any Rag-a-muffin ; 
But now I'm sick and cannot Play, 

Who'll trust me for a Coffin. 

Farewel my dearest Pickadilly, 

Notorious for great Dinners ; 
Oh what a Tennis- Court was there ! 

Alas ! too good for Sinners. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 7 

Farewel Spring-Garden where I us'd 

To Piss before the Ladies ; 
Poor Souls ! Who'll be their Hector now 

And get 'em pretty Babies. 

Farewel the Glory of Hide-Park, 

Which was to me so dear ; 
Ah, since I can't enjoy it more, 

Would I were Buried there. 

Farewel Tormenting Creditors, 
Whose Scores did so Perplex me ; 

Well ! Death I see for something's good, 
For now they'll cease to vex me. 

Farewel true Brethren of the Sword, 

All Martial Men and Stout ; 
Farewell dear Drawer at the Fleece, 

I cannot leave thee out. 

My Time draws on, I now must go, 

From this beloved Light; 
Remember me to pretty Sue, 

And so dear Friends good Night 

With that on Pillow low he laid 

His Pale and Drooping Head ; 
And streight e'er Cat could lick her Ear, 

Poor Philly he was Dead. 

Now God Bless all that will be Blest, 

God Bless the Inns of Court ; 
And God bless D 'Avenant 's Opera, 

Which is the Sport of Sports. 


SONGS Compleat, 

On the DEATH o/]o. Wright. 
7!? the same Tune. 

WHEN Rich Men Die, whose Purses swell 
With Silver and with Gold ; 
They straight shall have a Monument, 
Their Memories t'uphold. 

Yet all that Men can say of them, 

They lived so unknown ; 
Is but to write upon their Tomb, 

Here lieth such a one. 

When Joseph Wright, who Dyed Poor, 

(Tho' Simon was his Porter) 
Shall Die as if he ne'er had been, 

And want his Worth's Reporter. 

Full many a Cann he often Drank, 

In Fleet-Street in the Cellar ; 
Yet he must unremember'd Die, 

Like some base Fortune-teller. 

He made the Ballad of the Turk, 

And sung it in the Street ; 
And Shall he Die, and no Man heed it ? 

No Friends, it is not meet. 

He lived in a Garret high, 

Not much below the Steeple ; 
And shall he Die, alass poor Jo, 

Unknown unto the People. 

He had a Dog, his Name was Trot, 

Th' Dog with him did lye ; 
Shall Tobit Live for his Dog's sake, 

And Jo neglected Die ? 


Pleasant and Divertive. 9 

He had no Curtains to his Bed, 

But yet for t'other Quart ; 
Coin he would find, and shall he Die 

And no Man lay't to Heart ? 

He hated all the Female Sex, 

Who knew his private Grudge ; 
And must he therefore Die forgot ? 

I leave the World to Judge. 

Each Term he ask'd his Father Blessing, 

On bended Knee demurely ; 
Who then did give him Shillings Ten, 

And must he die Obscurely ? 

No, Jo, I'll bid Peace to thy Bones, 

Tho' they were Sick and Crasie ; 
And must be quite made New again, 

Before that Heaven can raise thee. 

And since thou'rt gone, and there is none 
Who knoweth where to find thee ; 

I'll fix this Truth upon thy Name, 
Thou didst leave Wit behind thee. 

Wit that shall make thy Name to last, 
When Taritorfs Jests are Rotten ; 

And Gcorge-a- Green, and Mother Bunch 
Shall all be quite forgotten. 

Now if you ask where Jo is gone, 

You think I cannot tell ; 
Oh he is Blest, for he was Poor, 

And could not go to Hell. 

But for his Father, Rich in Bags, 

The Devil ought to have him ; 
That took no Care of such a Son, 

Till 'twas too late to save him. 


io SONGS Compleat, 


A FABLE. To the same Tune. 

APalphry Proud, prick'd up with Pride, 
Went Prancing on the Way ; 
By chance a Mill-horse he espy'd, 
At whom he 'gan to Neigh. 

And scornfully with great Disdain 

The Palphry he stood still ; 
And laughed at the silly Horse, 

Which carry 'd sacks to Mill. 

Stand back, quoth he, thou moyling Ass, 

A Shame to Beggars kind ; 
Give place to me, thy Lord, to pass, 

Thou Drudge and toiling Hind. 

And with these Words he flung his Heels, 

And by the Mill-Horse pass'd ; 
To whom the silly Jade in Field, 

Did thus reply at last. 

Well, Well, quoth he, with mournful Mind, 

Full little know'st thou yet ; 
E'er that thou come unto thy End, 

Who on thy Back shall sit. 

When I was Young, as thou art now, 

Full little did I Care ; 
And never thought upon these Sacks, 

Which now to Mill I bear. 

I could both Manage, Stop and Turn, 

Curvet, and bravely Fling ; 
At Tilts and Turnaments I serv'd, 

Likewise to Run a Race at Ring. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 1 1 

Then was I fed with Corn and Hay, 

And had each thing at Will ; 
But when my Strength did wear away, 

I sold was to the Mill. 

And thou which proudly here dost Prance, 

And giv'st no Man the Way ; 
Full little dost thou know how soon 

Thou shalt come to decay. 

Thy Master's Stable is no Grange, 

Boast not therefore of Strength ; 
Yet not so Constant is by chance, 

As thou shalt find at length. 

Bucephalus upon his Back 

A Mighty Monarch bore ; 
When he had spent his fresh green Youth, 

The Dogs his Flesh did Tear. 

A Horse, a Hound, a Hawk, a Man, 

Serve but their Youthful Prime ; 
Therefore take heed if thou be Wise, 

Lay hold while it is Time. 

Trust not then to after Wou'ds, 

Gape not for had I list ; 
Ten Birds on Wing are not so good 

As One upon the Fist. 

With store of Shells in Pease-cod time, 

Besure thou shalt be Fed ; 
With fair Words and sweet ones too, 

Besure thou shalt be led. 

And when thy Strength does wear away, 

And Beauty 'gins to fade ; 
Away then with this Doating Ass, 

He serveth for the Spade. 


12 SONGS Compleat, 

Lo here you lusty lads to learn, 

Under a Caveat told ; 
That Younglings spend their fresh green Youth, 

Not thinking to be Old. 

Therefore hoist not your Sails too high, 

Disdain not simple Will ; 
For many a sturdy Horse e'er now, 

Hath carried Sacks to Mill. 

The Royal REGIMENT. 


I'LL Sing in the Praise, if you'll lend but an Ear, 
Of the fierce Royal Regiment, but don't think I 
For I vow and protest, they're as brave Men and 

As ever Old Rome bred, or New Iniskilling. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 1 3 

Lord, had you but seen 'em March with that Decorum, 
That no Roman Triumph cou'd e'er go before 'em ; 
Some Smoaking, some Whistling, all meaning no Harm, 
Like Yorkshire Attorneys, coming up to the Term. 

On Long-tails, on Bob-tails, on Trotters and Pacers, 
On Pads, Hawkers, Hunters, on Higlers and Racers ; 
You'd have sworn Knights and Squires, Prigs, Cuckolds, 

and Panders, 
Appear'd all like so many brave Alexanders. 

Those Warriours who through all Dangers must go, 
Most bravely despising Blood, Battle and Foe ; 
Was Mounted on Steeds the last Lord-Mayors Day, 
From T'urky, Spain, Barbary, Coach, Cart and Dray. 

'Twas that very Day their high Prowess was shown, 
In guarding the King thro' the Fire-works o' th' Town; 
Tho' Sparks were Unhorst, and their lac'd Coats were 

Yet they dreaded no Squibs, from Man, Woman, or 


The Cornet whose Nose, tho' it spoke him no Roman, 
Was Mounted that Day on a Horse fearing no Man ; 
No wonder, for all o'er his Trappings so sumptuous, 
He ty'd Squibs and Crackers ; 'twas mighty Pre 

But mark his Design, Faith 'tis worth your Admiring, 
'Twas to let the Queen see how his Horse wou'd stand 

Firing ; 

Not wisely considering Her Majesty's Marry'd, 
And he had been Hang'd, had some Body Miscarry'd. 

All Hearts true as Steel, but of all the brave Fellows, 
The Scriv'ner for my Money, who was so Zealous ; 
He sent for the Lease of his own House from Home, 
To make out a Cov'ring for the Troop's Kettle-Drum. 

The Lieutenant Colonel being thrown by a Gennet, 
His Son-in-Law fancying some Treachery in it ; 


14 SONGS Compleat, 

Gave the Horse the Oats,which the Beast took they say, 
But Swore by the Lord they went down like chopt Hay. 

He the Horse of some Irish Papist did buy, 
So doubting, as well he might, his Loyalty ; 
He made him to Eat with his Oats Gunpowdero, 
And -Prance to the Tune of Old Lilly-bur lero. 

The Tub-preaching Saint was so Zealous a Blade, 
In Jack-Boots day & night he Sleep'd, Preach'd & 


To call 'em to Prayers he needs no Saints Bell, 
For Gingling his Spurs Chimes 'em in all as well. 

A Noble stout Scriv'ner who now shall be Nameless, 
That in Day of Battle he might be found Blameless ; 
A War-Horse of Wood of a Dutch Carver buys, 
To learn with more safety the Horse Exercise. 

With one Eye on's Honour, the other on Gain, 
He fixes a Desk on Bticcphalus 's Main ; 
That so by this means he his Prancer bestriding, 
Might practice at once both his Writing and Riding. 

But Oh the sad News that their Joy quite confounds, 
To Ireland their own like the last Trumpet Sounds ; 
Lord, Lord how this set them to writing Petitions, 
And thinking of nothing but Terms and Conditions. 

Ah ! who'll March for me ? Speak any that dare, 
Here's a Horse &-a Hundred Pound for him, that's fair; 
Dear Courtier excuse me from Teague-land and 

And take which you please, Sir, my Wife or my 


Some feign'd themselves Lame, some feign'd them 
selves Clapt, 

At last finding all themselves by themselves Trapt ; 
The King most unanimously they Addrest, 
And told him the Truth, it was all but a Jest. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 1 5 

A Jest, quoth the King, and with that the King Smil'd, 
Come it ne'er shall be said that a good Jest was spoil'd ; 
Therefore I dismiss you, in Peace all depart, 
Sir, 'tis more Your Goodness, than our desert. 

Thus being deliver'd from th' tedious Vexation, 
Of being Defenders of this or that Nation ; 
They Kiss'd Royal Fist, and were Drunk all for Joy, 
Then broke all their Swords, and cry'd, Vive le Roy. 

A Sad and lamentable Account of an un 
happy Accident that befel a young Gen- 
tleman, by a Fall from his Horse, whereby 
he most dangerously hurt his Nose and 
Chin. The Words by Mr. FISHBURN. 

COME listen, good People, the whilst I relate, 
An Accident most Unfortunate, 
Of a Horse, and a Gentleman, and a sad Fate, 
Which no Body can deny. 


1 6 SONGS Compleat, 

Then first of the First, says the Country Parson, 
It was a Mad Beast as e'er was clap'd Arse on, 
And he would Run furiously like a Mars on, 
Which no Body, &c. 

It was not a Horse, nor a Mare, but a Gelding, 
A Run-away Beast that will not be held in, 
To say the Truth, 'twas a very Heilding, 
Which no Body, &c. 

To tell you his Colour, his Age, ,pr his Feature, 
At what he was Rated, or what was his Stature, 
Why Faith 'twould be something besides our Matter, 
Which no Body, &c. 

But now to Proceed something faster, 
And tell you the Cause of this sad Disaster, 
Ay, and how this Horse did serve his Master, 
Which no Body, &c. 

As this Horse and his Master were going to Bed, 
(The Master and Horse, I should have said) 
Away ran this Horse as if he had fled, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Onwards went Pegassus, there let him Stray, 
Off went the Gentleman, there let him lay, 
For this Beast had not the Good Manners to stay, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Then an angry Charioteer did approach, 

With a Pox take your Worship, you have spoil'd the 


Which was before as Sound as a Roach, 
Which no Body, &c. 

But the Lady in milder Terms did begin, 
With alass good Gentleman, pray have him in, 
Lord how he has hurt his Nose and his Chin, 
Which no Body, &c. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 1 7 

And when they had sit him down in a Chair, 
They all of his Life began to despair, 
At length they did venture to put up this Prayer, 
Which no Body, c. 

O Thou that Present st us at Bed and Board, 
Some help to this Dying Man afford, 
For our Squire we fear, is as Drunk as a Lord, 
Which no Body, 6<r. 

But then came a Couple, I took 'em" for Dray-men, 
But they prov'd a Brace of your Praying Lay-men, 
The one cry'd God Bless him, the other cry'd Amen, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Then a Pox of your Praying, crys out a Painter, 
Unless you had a prevailing Saint here, 
Such Winning's enough to make a Man faint here, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Then First he did wisely Examine his Skull, 
His Legs and his Arms he next did pull, 
Which made this Calf roar out like a Bull, 
Which no Body, c. 

At Portsmouth there lately did Land an Hamburgean, 
Who Eat Pickl'd Dog, and took it for Sturgeon, 
So we had a Painter instead of a Surgeon, 
Which no Body, &c. 

But then came a Lawyer to make up the round, 
And he to the Purpose a Proverb had found, 
He that's Born to be Hang'd shall never be Drown'd 
Which no Body, &c. 

Then come some Old Women to make up the Ditty, 
With alas good Gentleman, Faith 'twas a Pity, 
He was the Prettiest Man in all the City, 
Which no Body can deny. 

VOL. iv. c The 

1 8 SONGS Compleat, 


To the same T^tne. 

PRey lend me your Ear if you've any to spare. 
You that love Common-wealth as you hate com 
mon Prayer, 

That can in a Breath, Pray, Dissemble and Swear. 
Which no Body can deny, deny ; which no Body can 

I'm first on the wrong-side, and then on the right, 
To Day I'm a Jack, and to morrow a Mite, 
I for either King Pray, but for neither dare Fight. 
Which no Body, &c. 

Sometimes I'm a Rebel, sometimes I'm a Saint, 
Sometimes I can Preach, and at other times Cant ; 
There is nothing but Grace I thank God that I want. 
Which no Body, &c. 

Old Babylon's Whore, I cannot endure her, 
I'm a Sanctify'd Saint, there's none can be Purer, 
For Swearing I hate like any Non-Juror. 
Which no Body, &c. 

Of our Gracious King William I am a great Lover, 
Yet I side with a Party that Prays for another, 
^J'd drink the King's Health, take it one way or t'other, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Precisely I creep like a Snail to the Meeting, 
Where Sighing I sit, and such sorrowful Greeting, 
Makes me hate a long Prayer and two hours Prating. 
Which no Body, &c. 


Pleasant and Diverlive. \ 9 

And then I sing Psalms as if never weary, 
Yet I must confess, when I'm Frolick and Merry ; 
More Musick I find in A Boat to the Ferry. 
Which no Body, &c. 

I can pledge ev'ry Health my Companions drink round, 
I can say, Heaven Bless, or the Devil Confound ; 
I can hold with the Hare, and run with the Hound. 
Which no Body, &c. 

I can Pray for a Bishop, and Curse an Arch-Deacon, 
I can seem very sorry that Charleroy's Taken ; 
I can any thing say to save my own Bacon. 
Which no Body, &c. 

Sometimes for a good Common-wealths I am wishing, 

Oliver, Oliver, give us thy Blessing, 
For in troubled Waters now I love Fishing. 

Which no Body, &c. 

The Times are so ticklish I vow and profess, 

1 know not which Party or Cause to embrace ; 

I'll side with those to besure that are least in Distress. 
Which no Body, &c. 

With the Jacks I rejoyce that Savoy's defeated, 
With the Whigs I seem pleas'd he so bravely Retreated, 
Friends and Foes are by me both equally treated. 
Which no Body, &c. 

Each Party you see, is thus full of great Hope, 
There are some for the Devil and some for die Pope, 
And I am for any thing, but for a Rope. 
Which no Body can deny, &c. 

c 2 The 

2O SONGS Compleat, 


Y Masters and Friends, and good People draw 
_ _ near, 
And look to your Purses, for that I do say, 
And tho' little Money in them you do wear, 
It cost more to get than to lose in a Day ; 
You oft have been told, 
The Young and the Old, 
And bidden beware of the Cut-purse so bold ; 
Then if you take heed not, free me from the Curse, 
Who give you fair Warning for and the Cut-purse. 
Youth, Youth, thou hatfst better been starved at Nurse, 
Then for to be hanged for cuffing a Purse. 

It hath been upbraided to Men of my Trade, 
That oft-times we are the Cause of this Crime, 

Alack and for pity, why should it be said ? 
As if they regarded the Place or Time : 


Pleasant and Diver live. 2 1 

Examples have been, 
Of some that were seen, 
In Westminster- Hall, yea, the Pleaders between : 

Then why should the Judges be free from this Curse, 
More than my poor self, for cutting the Purse ? 
Youth, Youth, &c. 

At Worcester 'tis known well, and even i'th' Jayl, 

A Knight of good worth did there shew his Face, 
Against the small Sinner in rage for to rail, 
And lost Ipse Facto, his Purse i'th' Place ; 
Nay, even from the Seat 
Of Judgment so great, 

A Judge there did loose a fair Purse of Velvet, 
O Lord for thy Mercy, how wicked or worse, 
Are those that so venture their Necks for a Purse ? 
Youth, Youth, &c. 

At Plays and at Sermons, and at the Sessions, 
Tis daily their Practice such Booties to make ; 

Yea, under the Gallows at Executions, 

They stick not, but stare about Purses to take ; 
Nay, once without Grace, 
At a better place, 

At Court, and at Christmass before the King's Face ; 

Alack then for pitty must I bear the Curse, 

That only belong to the cunning Cut-purse ? 
Youth, Youth, &c. 

But oh you vile Nation of Cut-Purses all, 

Relent and Repent, and amend, and be sound, 
And know that you ought not by honest Mens Fall, 
To advance your own Fortunes, to die above Ground ; 
And tho' you go Gay, 
In Silks, as you may, 

It is not the High-way to Heaven (they say), 
Repent, then Repent ye for better for worse, 
And Kiss not the Gallows for Cutting a Purse. 
Youth, Youth, &c. 


22 SONGS Compleat, 

The MAIDEN'S Longing. To the same 

A Maiden of late, 
Whose Name sweet Kate, 
She dwelt in London near Aldersgate ; 
Now list to my Ditty, declare it I can, 
She would have a Child, without help of a Man. 

To a Doctor she came, 

A Man of Great Fame, 

Whose deep Skill in Physick Report did proclaim, 
Quoth she, Mr. Doctor shew me if you can, 
How I may Conceive without help of a Man. 

Then listen, quoth he, 
Since so it must be, 

This wondrous strange Med'cine I'll shew presently ; 
Take Nine Pound of Thunder, Six Legs of a Swan, 
And you shall Conceive without help of a Man. 

The Wool of a Frog, 

The Juice of a Log, 

Well Parboil'd together in the Skin of a Hog, 
With the Egg of a Moon Calf, if get you can, 
And you shall Conceive without help of a Man. 

The Love of false Harlots, 

The Faith of false Varlots, 

With the Truth of Decoys that walk in their Scarlets, 
And the Feathers of a Lobster well fry'd in a Pan, 
And you shall conceive without help of a Man. 

Nine drops of Rain, 

Brought hither from Spain, 

With the Blast of a Bellows quite over the Main, 
With eight Quarts of Brimstone Brew'd in a Beer-Cann, 
And you shall Conceive without help of a Man. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 23 

Six Pottles of Lard, 

Squeezed from a Rock hard, 
With Nine Turkey Eggs, each as long as a Yard, 
With a Pudding of Hail-stones well bak'd in a Pan, 
And you shall Conceive without help of a Man. 

These Med'cines are good, 

And approved have stood, 
Well temper'd together with a Pottle of Blood, 

Squeez'd from a Grashopper and the Nail of a Swan, 
To make Maids Conceive without help of a Man. 

Upon the PYRAMID. By Mr. Ratcliffe. 
To the foregoing Tune. 

MY Masters and Friends, and good People draw 

For here's a New Sight which you must not escape, 
A Stately young Fabrick that cost very dear, 
Renown'd for strait Body and Barbary shape j 
A Pyramid much high'r, 
Than a Steeple or Spire, 
By which you may guess there has been a Fire. 

Ah London th'adst better have built New Burdello's, 
T' encourage She-Traders and lusty Young Fellows. 

No sooner the City had lost their old Houses, 

But they set up this Monument wonderful tall ; 
Tho' when Christians were Burnt, as Fox plainly shews 


There was nothing set up but his Book in the HalL 
And yet these Men can't 
In their Conscience but grant, 
That a House is unworthy compar'd to a Saint. 
Ah London, &c. 


24 SONGS Compleat, 

The Children of Men in erecting old Babel, 
To be saved from Water did only desire : 
So the City presumes that this young one is able, 
When occasion shall serve, to secure them from Fire. 
Blowing up when all's done 
Preserves the best Town, 

But this Hieroglyphic will soon be blown down. 
Ah London, &c. 

Some say it resembles a Glass, fit for Mum, 

And think themselves Witty by giving Nick-names : 
An Extinguisher too 'tis fancied by some, 
As set up on purpose to put out the Flames, 
But what ever they shall 
This Workmanship call, 

Had it never been thought on 'thad been a Save-all. 
Ah London, &c. 

Some Passengers seem to suspect the grave City, 
As Men not so wise as they shou'd be, or so ; 
And oftentimes say, 'tis a great deal of pity 

So much Coin shou'd be spent, and so little to show. 
But these Men ne'er stop 
To pray for going up, 

For all that's worth seeing, is when y'are a-top. 
Ah London, &c. 

But O you proud Nations of Citizens all, 

Supposing y'had rear'd but only one Stone, 
And on it Engrav'd a stupendious Tale, 

Of a Conflagration the like was ne'er known : 
It had been as good 
T'have humour'd the Croud, 
And then y'had prevented their Laughing aloud. 
Ah London tttadst better have built New Burdello's, 
T encourage She-Traders, and lusty Young Fellows. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 

On the Lovely Mrs. K. W. 


Ate, the loveliest thing, 

That e'er was form'd by Nature, 

Flora i'th' pride of Spring, 

Ne'er wore so sweet a Feature. 

Her Air, her Port, her Mien, 

Her Lips, her Eyes, Complexion, 

Had Jove when on Earth, but seen, 
He had doted to Perfection. 

With Kisses and Blisses one's drown'd, 

In Seas of liquid Pleasure ; 
Such store of Riches there I found, 

She's an endless Mine of Treasure. 


26 SONGS Compleat, 


E^;z leave Piping, the Gods have done Feasting, 
There's never a Goddess a Hunting to Day ; 
tals marvel at Condon's Jesting, 
That gives the assistance to entertain May. 
The Lads and the Lasses, with Scarfs on their Faces, 

So lively as passes, trip over the Downs : 
Much Mirth and Sport they make, running at Parley- 
Lord what haste they make for a Green-gown ! 

John with Gillan, Harry with Frances, 

Meg and Mary, with Robin and Will, 
George and Margery lead all the Dances, 

For they were reported to have the best Skill : 
But Cicily and Nancy, the fairest of many, 

That came last of any, from out of the Towns, 
Quickly got in among the midst of all the Throng, 

They so much did long for their Green-gowns. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 2 7 

Wanton Deborah whispered with Dorothy, 

That she would wink upon Richard and Sy m, 
Mincing Maudlin shew'd her Authority, 

And in the Quarrel would venture a Limb. 
But Sibel was sickly, and could not come quickly, 

And therefore was likely to fall in a Swoon, 
Tib would not tarry for Tom, nor for Harry, 

Lest Christian should carry away the Green-gown. 

Blanch and Bettrice, both of a Family, 

Came very lazy lagging behind ; 
Annise and Aimable noting their Policy, 

Cupid is cunning, although he be blind : 
But Winny the Witty, that came from the City, 

With Parnel the Pretty, and Besse the Brown ; 
Clem, Joan, and Isabel, Sue, Alice and bonny Nell, 

Travell'd exceedingly for a Green-gown. 

Now the Youngsters had reach'd the green Meadow, 

Where they intended to gather their May, 
Some in the Sun-shine, some in the Shadow, 

Singled in Couples did fall to their Play ; 
But constant Penelope, Faith, Hope and Charity, 

Look'd very modestly, yet they lay down ; 
And Prudence prevented what Rachel repented, 

And Kate was contented to take a Green-gown. 

Then they desired to know of a truth, 

If all their Fellows were in the like Case, 
Nem call'd for Ede, and Ede for Ruth, 

Ruth for Marcy, and Marcy for Grace; 
But there was no speaking, they answer'd with squeak 

The pretty Lass breaking the head of the Clown ; 
But some were Wooing, while others were doing, 

Yet all their going was for a Green-gown. 



SONGS Compleat, 

Bright Apollo was all this while peeping, 

To see if his Daphne had been in the Throng ; 
But missing her hastily downwards was creeping, 

For Thetis imagin'd he tarried too long : 
Then all the Troop mourned and homeward returned, 

For Cynthia scorned to smile, or to frown ; 
Thus they did gather May^ all the long Summer-day, 

And at Night went away with a Green-Gown. 

The Ballad of King JOHN and the Abbot 

_ I 


Pleasant and Diver live. 29 

I'LL tell you a Story, a Story anon, 
Of a Noble Prince, and his Name was YJn%John; 
For he was a Prince, a Prince of great might, 
He held up great Wrongs, and he put down great Right, 
Derry down, down, hey derry down. 

I'll tell you a Story, a Story so merry, 
Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury ; 
And of his House-keeping and high Renown, 
Which made him repair to fair London Town. 
Derry down, &c. 

How now, Brother Abbot ! 'tis told unto me, 
That thou keep'st a far better House than I ; 
And for thy House-keeping and high Renown, 
I fear thou hast Treason against my Crown. 
Derry down, &c. 

I hope my Liege, that you owe me no Grudge, 
For spending of my true gotten Goods ; 
If thou dost not answer me Questions Three, 
Thy Head shall be taken from thy Body. 
Derry down, &c. 

When I am set on my Steed so high, 
With my Crown of Gold upon my Head ; 
Amongst all my Nobility, with Joy and much Mirth, 
Thou must tell me to One Penny what I am Worth. 
Derry down, &c. 

And the next Question you must not flout, 
How long I shall be Riding the World about ? 
And the Third Question thou must not shrink, 
But tell to me truly what I do think. 
Derry down, &c. 

O These are hard Questions for my shallow Wit, 
For I cannot answer your Grace as yet, 
But if you will give me Three days space, 
I'll do my Endeavour to answer your Grace. 
Derry down^ &c. 


30 SONGS Compleat, 

Three Days space I will thee give, 

For that is the longest day thou hast to Live ; 
And if thou dost not answer these Questions right, 
Thy Head shall be taken from thy Body quite. 
Derry down, &c. 

And as the Shepherd was going to his Fold, 
He spy'd the old Abbot come riding along ; 
How now Master Abbot, you're welcome home, 
What News have you brought from good King John. 
Derry down, &c. 

Sad News, sad News, I have thee to give, 
For I have but Three Days space for to Live ; 
If I do not answer Him Questions Three, 
My Head will be taken from my Body. 
Derry down, &c. 

When He is set on His Steed so high, 
With His Crown of Gold upon his Head ; 
Amongst all his Nobility, with Joy and much Mirth, 

1 must tell Him to One Penny what He is worth. 
Derry down, &c. 

And the next Question I must not flout, 
How long He shall be Riding the World about ; 
And the Third Question I must not shrink. 
But tell to Him truly what he does Think. 
Derry down, &c. 

O Master did you never hear it yet, 
That a Fool may learn a Wise Man Wit ? 
Lend me but your Horse and your Apparel, 
I'll ride to fair London and answer the Quarrel. 
Derry down, &c. 

Now I am set on my Steed so high, 
With my Crown of Gold upon my Head ; 
Amongst all my Nobility, with Joy and much Mirth, 
Now tell me to One Penny what I am worih. 
Derry down, &c. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 3 1 

For Thirty Pence our Saviour was Sold, 
Amongst the false Jews, as you have been told ; 
And Nine and Twenty's the Worth of Thee, 
For I think thou art One Penny worser than he. 
Derry down, &c. 

And the next Question thou maist not flout, 
How long I shall be Riding the World about ? 
You must Rise with the Sun, and Ride with the same, 
Until the next Morning he Rises again : 
And then 1 am sure, You will make no doubt, 
But in Twenty Four Hours you'll Ride it about. 
Derry down, &c. 

And the Third Question thou must not shrink, 
But tell me truly what I do Think ? 
All that I can do, and 'twill make your Heart Merry, 
For you think I'm the Abbot of Canterbury, 
But I'm his poor Shepherd as you may see, 
And am come to beg Pardon for he and for me. 
Derry down, &c. 

The King he turn'd him about, and did Smile, 
Saying thou shalt be Abbot the other while ; 
O no my Grace, there is no such need, 
For I can neither Write nor Read. 
Derry down, &c. 

Then Four Pounds a Week will I give unto thee, 
For this merry true Jest thou hast told unto me ; 
And tell the old Abbot when thou comest home, 
Thou hast brought him a Pardon from good King John: 
Derry down, down, hey derry down* 


SONGS Compleat, 

The Catholick BALLAD : 

Or, An Invitation to Popery, upon Con 
siderable Grounds and Reasons. 



Since Pofiry of late is so much in Debate, 
And great strivings have been to restore it, 
I cannot forbear only to declare, 
That the Ballad-makers are for it. 

We'll dispute it no more, these Heretical Men, 
Have exposed our Books unto Laughter; 

So that many do say 'twill be our best way 
To sing for the Cause hereafter. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 33 

O the Catholick Cause ! now assist me my Muse, 

How earnestly I do desire thee ! 
Neither will I Pray to St. Bridget to Day, 

But only to thee to Inspire me. 

Whence should Purity come, but from Catholick Rome ? 

I wonder much at your Folly ; 
For St. Peter was there, and left an old Chair, 

Enough to make all the World Holy. 

For this Sacred old Wood is so excellent good, 

If Tradition may be believed ; 
That whoever sits there, needs never more fear 

The danger of being deceived. 

If the Devil himself should (God Bless us) get up, 

Tho' his Nature we know to be Evil ; 
Yet whilst he sat there, as divers will swear, 

He would be an Infallible Devil. 

Now who sits in this Seat but our Father the Pope ? 

So that here's a plain Demonstration ; 
As clear as Noon-day, we're in the right way, 

And all others are Doom'd to Damnation. 

If this will not suffice, yet to open your Eyes, 

Which are blinded in bad Education ; 
We have Arguments Twenty, and Miracles plenty, 

Enough to convince a whole Nation. 

If you give but good heed, you shall see the Host bleed, 

And if anything can perswade ye ; 
An Image shall Speak, or at least it shall Squeak, 

In the Honour of our Lady. 

You shall see without doubt, the Devil cast out, 

As of old by Erra Pater ; 
He shall skip about and tear, like a Dancing-bear ; 

When he feels the Holy Water. 

VOL. IV. D If 

34 SONGS Compleat, 

If yet doubtful you are,, we have Relicks most r; 

We can shew you the Sacred Manger ; 
Several Loads of the Cross, as good as e'er was, 

To preserve your Souls from Danger. 

Should I tell you of all, it would move a Stone-wall, 

But I spare you a little for pity ; 
That each one may prepare, and rub up his Ear, 

For the Second Part of my Ditty. 

The Second PART. To the same Tune. 

NOW listen again to those things that remain, 
They are Matters of weight I assure you ; 
And the First thing I say, throw your Bibles away, 
'Tis impossible else for to Cure you. 

O that Pestilent Book ! Never on it more look, 

I wish I could speak it out louder ; 
It has done more Men harm, I dare boldly affirm, 

Than th' Invention of Guns and Powder. 

As for Matters 'of Faith, believe what the Church saith, 
But for Scriptures leave that to the Learned ; 

For these are Edge Tools, and you Lay-men are Fools, 
If ye touch them y'are sure to be harmed. 

But pray what is it for that you make all this stir ? 

You must Read, you must Hear and be Learned ; 
If you'll be on our part, we will teach you an Art, 

That you need not be so much Concerned. 

Be the Church's good Son, and your work is half done, 
After that you may do your own pleasure ; 

If your Beads you can tell, and say Ave Mary well, 
Never doubt of the Heavenly Treasure. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 35 

For the Pope keeps the Keys, and can do what he 

And without all peradventure ; 
If you cannot at the Fore, yet at the Back-dore 

Of Indulgence you may enter. 

But First by the way, you must make a short stay, 

At a place call'd Purgatory ; 
Which the Learned us tell, in the Buildings of Hell, 

Is about the Middlemost Story. 

'Tis a monstrous Hot place, and a Mark of disgrace, 

In the Torment on't long to endure ? 
None are kept there but Fools, and poor pitiful Souls, 

Who can no ready Money procure. 

For a handsome round Sum, you may quickly be gone, 

For the Church has wisely Ordain'd : 
That they who build Crosses, and pay well for Masses, 

Should not there be too long detain'd. 

So that 'tis a plain Case, as the Nose on ones Face, 

We are in the surest Condition ; 
And none but poor Fools and some niggardly Owls, 

Need fall into utter Perdition. 

What aileth you then, O ye Great and Rich Men, 

That ye will not hearken to Reason ; 
Since as long as y'have Pence, ye need scruple no 

Be it Murder, Adultrey, or Treason. 

And ye sweet natur'd Women, who hold all things 

My Addresses to you are most hearty ; 
And to give you your due, you are to us most true, 

And we hope we shall gain the whole Party. 

If you happen to Fall, your Pennance shall be small, 

And although you cannot forego it ; 
We have for you a Cure, if of this you be sure 

To Confess before you go to it. 

D 2 There 

36 SONGS Compleat, 

There is one Reason yet, which I cannot omit, 
To those who affect the French Nation ; 

Hereby we advance the Religion of France, 
The Religion that's only in Fashion. 

If these Reasons prevail, (as how can they fail ?) 

To have Popery entertain'd ; 
You cannot conceive, and will hardly believe, 

What Benefits hence may be gain'd. 

For the Pope shall us Bless, (that's no small Happiness) 

'And again we shall see restor'd 
The Italian Tiade, which formerly made 

"This Land to be so much ador'd. 

O the Pictures and Rings, the Beads and fine things, 

The good Words as sweet as Honey ; 
All this and much more shall be brought to our Door, 

For a little dull English Money. 

Then shall Justice and Love, and what can move, 

Be restor'd again to our Britain ; 
And Learning so common, that every Old Woman 

Shall say her Prayers in Latin. 

Then .the Church shall bear sway, and the State shall 


i Which is now look'd upon as a Wonder; 
And the Proudest of Kings, and all Temporal things, 
Shall submit and truckle under. 

And the Parliament too, who have tak'n us to do, 
And have handl'd us with so much Terror ; 

May chance on that score ('tis no time to say more) 
They may chance to acknowledge their Error. 

If any Man yet shall have so little Wit, 

As still to be Refractory ; 
I swear by the Mass, he is a meer Ass 

And so "there's an end of a Story. 


Pleasant and Diver tivc. 37 

Sir FRANCIS DRAKE : Or, Eighty Eight. 
To the same Time. 

SOME Years of late, in Eighty Eight, 
As I do well remember a ; 
It was, some say, on the Ninth of May, 
And some say in September a. 

The Spanish Train launch'd forth a-main, 

With many a fine Bravado ; 
Whereas they thought, but it prov'd nought, 

The Invincible Armado. 

There was a little Man that dwelt in Spain, 

That shot well in a Gun a ; 
Don Pedro height, as Black a Wight, 

As the Knight of the Sun a. 

King Phillip made him Admiral, 

And bad him not to stay a ; 
But to destroy both Man and Boy, 

And so to come away a. 

The Queen was then at Tillbury, 
What could we more desire a ; 

Sir Francis Drake, for Her sweet sake, 
Did set 'em all on Fire a. 

Away they ran by Sea and Land, 
So that one Man slew Three-score a ; 

And had not they all run away, 
O my Soul, we had killed more a. 

Then let them neither brag nor boast, 

For if they come again a ; 
Let them take heed they do not speed, 

As they did they knew when a. 

38 SONGS Compleat, 

A BALLAD called, 

The Jovial Bear- ward. To the same T^me. 

XHO' it may seem rude 
For me to intrude 
e my Bears by chance a ; 
Twere sport for a King, 
If they could Sing 
As well as they can Dance a. 

Then to put you out 

Of fear or doubt ; 
I came from St. Katherine a ; 

These Dancing Three> 

By the help of me, 
Who am keeper of the Sine a. 

We sell good Ware, 

And we need not care 
Tho' Court and Country, knew it 

Our Ale's o'th' best, . 

And each good Guest 
Prays for their Souls that Brew it 

For any Ale-house, 

We care not a Louse, 
Nor Tavern in all the Town a ; 

Nor the Vintry Cranes, 

Nor St. Clement Danes, 
Nor the Devil can put us down a ; 

Who has once here been, 

Comes hither agen, 
The Liquor is so mighty ; 

Beer strong and stale, 

And so is our Ale, 
And it burns like Aqua Vita. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 39 

The Wives of Wapping, 

They trudge to our Tapping 
And still our Ale desire a ; 

And there sit and Drink, 

Till they Spew and Stink, 
And often Piss out the Fire a. 

From Morning to Night, 

And about to Day-light, 
They sit, and never grudge it ; 

Till the Fish-Wifes join 

Their single Coin, 
And the Tinker pawns his Budget 

If their Brains be not well, 

Or Bladders do swell, 
To ease them of their Burden ; 

My Lady will come 

With a Bowl and a Broom, 
And her Hand-Maid with a Jordan. 

From Court we invite 

Lord, Lady, and Knight, 
Squire, Gentlemen, Yeomen and Groom ; 

And all our stiff Drinkers, 

Smiths, Porters and Tinkers, 
And the Beggars shall give you room. 

SONGS Compleat, 


OH London is a fine Town, and a gallant City, 
'Tis Govern'd by the Scarlet Gown, come listen 

to my Ditty ; 

This City has a Mayor, this Mayor is a Lord, 
He Governeth the Citizens upon his own accord : 
He boasteth his Gentility, and how Nobly he was born ; 
His Arms are three Ox-heads , and his Crest a Rampant 

The first Journey his Lordship takes, is to Westminster- 

Attended by twelve Companies, for he must have 'em 

The Barges are made all fine and gay, for his Lordship 
and the best, 

And Dung-boats and Lyters provided for the rest. 

Then at the Exchequer he's sworn upon a Shoe-soal, 
That he will be no wiser Man than was his Brother 


The Sword is born before 'em up and down the Stairs, 
To Fright away the little Boys that laugh at our Lord- 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 41 

And when that is ended, home again he comes, 
With joyful Noise upon the Thames of Trumpets and 
of Drums ; [jg s > 

His Lordship lands at /Wj- Wharf, and on along he 
Attended by his Companies, as Hungry as any Dogs. 

Then in comes the Carver, and boldly falls to work, 

With Knife like Scimiter as fierce as any Turk ; 

He hit upon the Goose-bone, and turn'd both Edge 

and point, 
Till he look'd upon my Lord-Mayor, he could not hit 

the Joint. 

Then up came Custard with Twenty Four Nukes, 
As you may find recorded in John Stow's Books ; 
And why it was so big, if you wou'd know the Reason, 
It was to keep their Chaps at work that would be prat 
ing Treason. 

Then they go to Greenwitch all in the City Barge, 
And there they have a Noble Treat all at the City 

Charge ; 
And when they come to Cuckold' s-Point, they make a 

Gallant Show, 
Their Wives bid the Musick play Cuckolds-all-a-row. 

Then they go to Paul's Church e'er Morning-Prayer 

begins, [Pins ; 

And as they go along the Street, they stoop to pick up 

But if you'd know, I'll tell you the Moral Reason of it, 

They that would to Riches grow, must stoop for little 


My Lord-Mayor rides along the Street like unto a Law 
maker, [Baker ; 

With Forty Catch-poles at his Arse, to Prosecute the 

And when he comes to the Baker's Stall, and finds his 
Bread too light, 

He sends it home to his own House, to Feast both 
Lord and Knight. 


42 SONGS Compleat, 

Then to the Sessions-House they go, the Sessions for 

to keep, 

Until that the Recorder comes they all are fast asleep ; 
They call up their Juries by Twelves and by Twelves, 
And if they Hang up no Man, they may go Hang 


So then they borrow Boots and Spurs, and out of Town 

they ride, 

To see the Bears baited on the Bank side ; 
And when that they have done, they all return again, 
Like so many Apes, with each his Golden-Chain. 

Then to hear a Sermon once a Year, he rides unto the 

And there sits full three Hours long, and brings away 

but little ; 
And when that he comes home, he sits down at his 

And if he has not Minc'd Pyes, his Cheer's not worth 

a Turd. 

My Lady says unto my Lord when all the Guests are 

I do intend to Morrow next to invite my Friend Sir 


For I don't think it fit always to have Trades-men, 
I pray therefore let me rub in a Courtier now and then. 

My Lady boldly ask'd my Lord what dishes she should 

To entertain her friend Sir John, that was so fine and 

My Lord he nam'd a Calves-head, at which she made 

a Pish, 
And swore she'd have a Turkey-cock, for she loved a 

standing Dish. 

Next once a year into Essex a Hunting they do go, 
To see 'em pass along, O 'tis a most pretty show ; 


Pleasant and Divertive. 


Through Cheap-side and Fenchurch-street, and so to Aid- 
gate Pump, 

Each Man with's Spurs in's Horses sides, and his Back- 
Sword cross his Rump. 

My Lord he takes a staff in Hand, to beat the Bushes 


I must confess it was a work he ne'er had done before ; 
A Creature bounceth from a Bush, which made 

them all to Laugh, 
My Lord he cry'd a Hare, a Hare, but it proved an 

Essex Calf. 

And when they had done their Sport, they came to 

London, where they dwell ; 
Their Faces all so torn and scratch'd, their Wives scarce 

knew them well ; 

For 'twas a very great Mercy so many 'scap'd alive, 
For of Twenty Saddles carried out, they brought again 

but Five. 



44 SONGS Compleat, 

A Rise, arise, my Juggy, my Puggy, 
Arise, get up my Dear ; 
The Night is Cold, 
It bloweth, it snoweth, 
/ must be Lodged here. 

M y Juggy, my Puggy, 

My Honey, my Bunny, 
My Love, my Dove, my Dear ; 

O the Night is Cold, 

It Bloweth, it Snoweth, 
/ must be Lodged here. 

Be gone, be gone, my Jockey, my Jockey, 
Be gone, be gone, my Dear ; 

The Night is warm, 

'Twill do you no harm, 
You cannot be Lodged here. 

My Jockey, my Jockey, 
My Willy, my Billy, 
My Joy, my Joy, my Dear ; 
O the Night it is warm, &c. 

Farewel, farewel, my Juggy, my Puggy, 
Farewel my Love, my Dear ; 

Now will I be gone from whence I come, 
If I cannot be Lodged here. 
My Juggy, & c , 

Return, return, my Willy my Billy, 
Return my Love and Dear ; 

The Weather doth change, 

Then seem not strange, 
Thou shalt be Lodged here. 

My Jockey, &c. 

Pleasant and Diver tive. 



To curb rising Thoughts. 

was an Old Woman that had but One Son, 
| And he had neither Land nor Fee ; 
He took great Pains, 
But got little Gains, 
Yet fain a Landlord he would be, 

With afadariddle la, fa la da riddle la, fa la la fa la 
la re. 

And as he was a going Home, 
He met his Old Mother upon the High-way j 
O Mother, quoth he, 
Your Blessing grant me, 
Thus the Son to the Mother did say. 
With a fa, &c. 

I ha' 

46 SONGS Compleat, 

I ha' begg'd Butter-milk all this long Day, 
But I hope I shan't be a Beggar long ; 

For I've more Wit come into this Pate, 
Then e'er I had when I was Young. 
With a fa, &c. 

This Butter- milk I will it sell, 

A Penny for it I shall have you shall see ; 
With that Penny I will buy me some Eggs, 
I shall have Seven for my Penny. 
With a fa, &c. 

And those Seven Eggs I'll set under a Hen, 

Perhaps Seven Cocks they may chance for to be ; 

And when those Seven Cocks are Seven Capons, 
There will be Seven Half-Crowns for me. 
With a fa, &c. 

P.ut as he was going Home, 

Accounting up of his Riches all ; 
His Foot it stumbled against a Stone, 

Down came Butter-milk Pitcher and all. 
With a fa, ^. 


His Pitcher was broke, and his Eggs were dispatch 1 d. 
This 'tis to count Chickens before they are Hatch d. 
With a fa da, &c. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 47 

The Reformed Drinker. 

y Hearts of Gold, 
Let us be Merry and Wise ; 
It is a Proverb of Old, 

Suspicion hath double Eyes : 
Whatsoever we say or do, 

Let's not Drink to disturb the Brain ; 
Let's Laugh for an Hour or Two, 
And ne'er be Drunk again. 

A Gup of old Sack is good, 

To drive the Cold Winter away ; 
Twill Cherish and Comfort the Blood 

Most when a Man's Spirits decay : 
But he that doth Drink too much, 

Of his Head he will complain ; 
Then let's have a gentle Touch, 

And never be drunk again. 

Good Claret was made for Man, 

But Man was not made for it ; 
Let's be Merry as we can, 

So we Drink not away our Wit : 


48 SONGS Compleat, 

Good Fellowship is abus'd, 

And Wine will infect the Brain ; 
But we'll have it better us'd, 
And ne'er be drunk again. 

When with good Fellows we meet, 

A Quart among Three or Four ; 
Twill make us stand on our Feet, 

While others lye Drunk on the Floor 
Then Drawer go fill a Quart, 

And let it be Claret in Grain ; 
'Twill Cherish and Comfort the Heart, 

But we'll ne'er be Drunk again. 

Here's a Health to our Noble King, 

And to the Queen of his Heart; 
Let's Laugh and Merrily Sing, 

And he's a Coward that will start : 
Here's a Health to our General, 

And to those that were in Spain; 
And to our Colonel, 

And we'll ne'er be Drunk again. 

Enough's as good as a Feast 

If a Man did but Measure know ; 
A Drunkard's worse than a Beast, 

For he'll Drink till he cannot go : 
If a Man could Time recal, 

In a Tavern that's spent in vain ; 
We'd learn to be Sober all, 

And never be Drunk again. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 49 

A true Character of sundry TRADES and 
CALLINGS : or a new Ditty of Innocent 
Mirth. To the same Time. 

XT OW Gentlemen sit ye all Merry, 
1 > I'll Sing you a Song of a Want; 
I'll make you as Merry as may be, 

Tho' Money begins to grow scant : 
A Woman without e'er a Tongue, 

She never can Scold very loud ; 
'Tis just such another great Want, 

When a Fidler wants his Croud : 
Good People I tell unto you, 

These Lines they are absolute New ; 
For I hate and despise the telling of Lies, 

This Ditty is Merry and True. 

A Ship that's without e'er a Sail, 

May be driven the Lord knows whither ; 
'Tis just such another sad Want, 

When a Shoemaker wants his Leather : 
A Man that has got but One Leg, 

Will make but a pitiful Runner ; 
And he that has no Eyes in his Head, 

Will make but a sorrowful Gunner : 
Good People I tell unto you, 

These Lines they are absolute New ; 
For I hate and despise the telling of Lies ', 

This Ditty is Merry and True. 

VOL. iv. E The 

50 SONGS Compleat, 

The Second PART. To the same Tune. 

A Doctor without any Stomach, 
JL Will make but a pitiful Dinner ; 
And he that has got no Victuals to eat, 

Will quickly look thinner and thinner : 
A Bell without ever a Clapper, 

Will make but a sorrowful Sound ; 
And he that has no Land of his own, 

May work on another Man's Ground : 
Good People I tell unto you, 

These Lines they are absolute New ; 
For I hate and despise the telling of Lies, 

This Ditty is Merry and True. 

A Blacksmith without his Bellows, 

He need not to rise very soon ; 
And he that has no Cloaths to put on, 

May lie a Bed till 'tis Noon : 
An Inn-keeper without any Custom, 

Will never get store of Wealth ; 
And if he has never a Sign to hang up, 

He may e'en go Hang up himself : 
Good People, &c. 

A Miller without any Stones, 

He is but a sorrowful Soul ; 
And if that he has no Corn to Grind, 

He need not stand taking of Toll : 
The Taylor we know he is loth 

To take any Cabbage at all ; 
If he has no Silk, Stuff, or Cloth, 

To dp that good Office withal : 
Good People, &c. 

A Woman without e'er a Fault, 
She like a bright Star will appear ; 

But a Brewer without any Mault, 
Will make but pitiful Beer. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 5 1 

A Man that has got but one Shirt, 
When e'er it is wash'd for his Hide ; 

I hope it can be no great hurt, 
To lye in his Bed till 'tis dry'd : 

Good People, &c. 

A Mountebank without his Fools, 

And a Skip-kennel turn'd out of Place ; 
A Tinker without any Tools, 

They are all in a sorrowful case : 
You know that a Dish of good Meat, 

It is the true stay of Man's Life ; 
But he that has nothing to Eat, 

He need not to draw out his Knife : 
Good People, &c. 

A Pedlar without e'er a Stock, 

It makes him look pitiful Blue ; 
A Shepherd without e'er a Flock, 

Has little or nothing to do : 
A Farmer without any Corn, 

He neither can give, sell or lend ; 
A Huntsman without e'er a Horn, 

His Wife she must stand his good Friend : 
Good People, &c. 

A Plow-man that has ne'er a Plow, 

I think he may live at his ease ; 
A Dairy without e'er a Cow, 

Will make but bad Butter and Cheese : 
A Man that is pitiful Poor, 

Has little or nothing to lose ; 
And he that has never a Foot, 

It saves him the buying of Shoes : 
Good People I tell unto you, 

These Lines they are absolute Neiv ; 
For I hate and despise the telling of Lies, 

This Ditty is Merry and True. 

E 2 

52 SONGS Compleat, 

A Warren without e'er a Cunny, 

Is Barren and so much the worse ; 
And he that is quite without Money, 

Can have no great need of a Purse : 
I hope there is none in this place, 

That now is not pleas'd with this Song ; 
Come buy up my Ballads apace, 

And I'll pack up my Awls and begone : 
Good People I tell unto you, 

These Lines they are absolute New ; 
For I hate and despise the telling of Lies, 

This Ditty is Merry and True. 

The New ENGLAND Ballad. 

WILL you please to give ear a while untp me, 
And streight I chill tell you where c'h' have 

C'ha been to New England, but now cham come o'er, 
I'ch think they shall catch me go thither no more. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 53 

Before Tse went thither, Lord, how Yoke did tell 
How Vishes did grow, and how Birds did dwell, 
All one amongst t'other, in the Wood and the Water, 
Ise thought 'triad been true, but I found no such 

When first Ise did Land, they mazed me quite, 
\nd 'twas of all days on a Saturday Night ; 
.se wondered to see strange Buildings were there, 
Twas all like the standings at Woodbury Fair. 

Well, that Night I slept till near Prayer time, 
Next Morning I wonder'd I heard no Bells Chime ; 
At which I did ask, and the Reason I found, 
Twas because they had ne'er a Bell in the Town. 

At last being warned, to Church we repair'd, 
rVhere I did think certain we should have some Pray'rs ; 
But the Parson there no such matter did teach, 

They scorn'd to Pray, for all one could Preach. 

The first thing they did, a Psalm they did Zing, 

ise pluck'd out my Psalm-Book I with me did bring ; 

And tumbled to seek him 'cause they caw'd him by's 

But they'd got a new Zong to the Tune of the same. 

When Sermon was ended, was a Child to Baptize, 
Bout Zixteen Years old, as Yolks did zurmise ; 
He had neither Godfather, nor Godmother, yet was 

quiet and still, 
But the Priest durst not Cross him, for fear of ill will. 

Ah, Sirrah, thought I, and to Dinner Ise went, 
And gave the Lord Thanks for what he had sent ; 
Next day was a Wedding, the Brideman my Friend, 
Did kindly invite me, so thither Ise wend. 

But this above all, me to wonder did bring, 
To see Magistrate Marry them, and had ne'er a Ring ; 
Ise thought they would call me the Woman to give, 
But I think the Man stole her, they ask'd no Man leave. 



SONGS Compleat, 

Now this was New Dorchester, as they told unto me, 
A Town very Famous in all that Country ; 
They said 'twas new Buildings, I grant it is true, 
Yet Methinks Old Dorchester's as fine as the New. 

Well there I staid amongst 'em till ch' was weary at 

my Heart, 

At length there came Shipping, I got leave to depart ; 
But when all was ended, and ch' was coming away, 
I had Threescore good Shillings at last for to pay. 

But when I saw this, I Swore on the more, 
That I'd stay there no longer to Swear upon Shoar ; 
Ise bid a Farewel to Fowlers and Fishers, 
Praying God to bless Old England and all the good 

The Ballad of FOX-Jfuntmg, 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 5 5 

TO Hunt the Fox is an Old Sport, 
Used both in City and Court ; 
Nor are the Academicks free, 
No Beast they chase so much as he : 
They that think all Pleasures vain, 
Will sometimes follow , will sometimes follow ', will 
sometimes follow the Fox's Train. 

The Gallant who each Hour invents 
Some pretty pleasing Compliments ; 
And thinks no Phrase so neat and pure, 
As Votres humble Serviteur : 

Slights his Lady's nice Disdain, 

And sometimes follows, &c. 

The Plodding Student that doth look 
Upon no Object but his Book ; 
And thinks that all he doth Project, 
Too wise is for Old Men t'effect : * 

Will sometimes ease his troubled Brain, 

By following, &c. 

The Clergy-men live Merry Lives, 
They get fine Livings and fine Wives ; 
The Church's State they finely Rule, 
Yet with a Cup their Zeal they'll cool : 

The Poet writes no pleasant Strain, 

Unless he follows, &c. 

Physicians that with Skill profound, 
Can make the sickly Patient sound ; 
They Cure one Grief, and leave a worse, 
Call'd the Consumption of the Purse : 

Yet once a Month will not refrain, 

But follows still, &c. 

The Lawyers, as I understand, 

Can warrant your Case, if it be good ; 


56 SONGS Compleat, 

And tempting Fees on both sides take, 
And new Demurs can make : 

Although his chief delight is Gain, 

He follows still, &c. 

The little Fox at length is found, 
Where he lies lurking under Ground ; 
He Earths himself in Cellars deep, 
When he from Mortals View would creep : 

Till gentle slumber charms his Brain, 

And then concludes, and then concludes the Fox's Train. 

The Longing MAID. 

Pleasant and Dwertive. 



THERE was a Maid the other Day, 
That sighed sore God wot ; 
And said all Wives might sport and play, 

But Maidens they may not : 
Full Fifteen have I liv'd she said, 

Poor Soul, since I was Born : 
And if I chance to Die a Maid, 
Apollo is forsworn. 

Oh, Oh, for a Husband, 

Still this was her Song ; 
I will have a Husband, I will have a Husband, 

A Husband Old or Young. 

An Ancient Suitor to her came, 

His Beard was almost Grey ; 
Tho' he was Old and she was Young, 

She could no longer stay : 
Unto her Mother went this Maid, 

And told her by and by ; 
That she a Husband needs must have, 

She had a reason why ; 
Oh, Oh, &c. 


58 SONGS Compleat, 

She had not been a Wedded Wife 

One quarter of a Year ; 
But she was weary of this Life, 

And grew into a Jeer : 
The Old Man snorting by her side, 

She'd nought but Sigh and Groan ; 
Did ever Woman this abide, 

'Tis better lye alone. 

Oh, Oh, Oh what a Husband, what a Life lead I, 
Out, out of such a Husband, such a Husband, 
Fie, fie, fie, fie, fie, fie. 

To live a Wedded Life, she said, 

A Twelve Month, 'tis too long ; 
As I have done, poor Soul, she cry'd, 

That am both Fair and Young : 
When other Wives can have their Will, 

They are not like to me ; 
I mean to go and try my Skill, 

And seek a Remedy : 

Oh, Oh, Oh what a Husband, what a Life lead I, 
Out, out of such a Husband, such a Htisband, 
fie, fie, fie, fie, fie, fie. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 


A Woman once found out. 

THO' bootless I must needs Complain, 
My Fate is so extream ; 
I iov'd, and was belov'd again, 

Yet all was but a Dream, 
For as that love was quickly got, 

So it was quickly gone ; 
I'll touch no more a Flame so hot. 
Pd rather lie alone. 

No Creature, be she ne'er so Fair, 

Shall any more beguile 
My Fancy with a feigned Tear, 

Nor tempt me with a Smile ; 


SONGS Compleat, 

I'll never think Affection feign'd, 

That is so fairly shewn ; 
I'll touch no more a Flame so hot, 

I'd rather lie alone. 

Should now the little God conspire 

Again t'entrap my Mind ; 
And strive to set my Heart on Fire, 

Alas, the Boy's too Blind : 
For such I'll never venture Smiles, 

Nor hazard Mirth for none ; 
Nor yet regard a Woman's Wiles, 

fd rather lie alone. 

The blazing Torch is soon burnt out, 

The Diamond's light abides ; 
The Fire her Glory hurls about, 

The Woman her Virtue hides : 
That spark, (if any should be mine) 

That else shews like to none ; 
For if to e'ery Eye she shine, 

I'd rather lie alone. 

No Woman shou'd deceive my Thought, 

With Colours not in Grain ; 
Nor put a Love so slightly wrought, 

Into my Hands again : 
I'll pay no more so dear for Wit, 

I'll live upon my own ; 
Nor shall Affection trouble it, 

Pd rather lie alone. 

And so I'll set my Heart at rest, 

My loving Labour's lost ; 
I'll be no more so rarely Blest, 

To be so strangely crost : 
The Love-lost Turtle so doth die, 

The Phenix is but One ; 
They seek no Mates, no more will I, 

Pd rather lie alone. 

Pleasant and Diver live. 


A Ballad of all the TRADES. 
Set by Mr. AKEROYDE. 

OH the Miller, the dusty, musty Miller, 
The Miller, that beareth on his Back ; 
He never goes to Measure Meal, 

But his Maid, but his Maid, but his Maid holds 
ope the sack. 

O the Baker, the bonny, bonny Baker, 

The Baker that is so full of Sin ; 
He never heats his Oven hot, 

But he thrusts, but he thrusts, but he thrusts his 
Maiden in. 

O the Brewer, the lusty, lusty Brewer, 

The Brewer that Brews Ale and Beer ; 
He never heats his Liquor hot, 

But he takes, but he takes, but he takes his Maid 
by the Geer. 


62 SONGS Compleat, 

O the Butcher, the bloody, bloody Butcher, 
The Butcher that sells both Beef and Bone ; 

He never grinds his Slaught'ring Knife, 

But his Maid, but his Maid, but his Maid must 
turn his Stone. 

O the Weaver, the wicked, wicked Weaver, 

That followeth a weary Trade \ 
He never shoots his Shuttle right, 

But he shoots, but he shoots, but he shoots first at 
his Maid. 

O the barber, the neat and nimble Barber, 

Whose Trade is ne'er the worse ; 
He never goes to Wash and Shave, 

But he trims, but he trims, but he trims his Maiden 

O the Taylor, the fine and frisking Taylor, 
The Taylor that gives so good regard ; 

He never goes to measure Lace, 

But his Maid, but his Maid, but his Maid holds 
out his Yard. 

O the Blaksmith, the lusty, lusty Blacksmith, 

The best of all good Fellows ; 
He never heats his Iron hot, 

But his Maid, but his Maid, but his Maid must 
blow the Bellows. 

O the Tanner, the Merry, Merry Tanner, 

The Tanner that draws good Hides into Leather \ 

He never strips himself to work, 

But his Maid, but his Maid, but his Maid and he's 

O the Tinker, the sturdy, sturdy Tinker, 

The Tinker that deals all in Mettle ; 
He never clencheth home a Nail, 

But his Trull, but his Trull, but his Trull holds up 
the Kettle. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 63 

The Woman wears the BREECHES. 
Tune, Three Children sliding on the Thames. Pag. i. 

A Pox upon this cursed Life, 
_/-\_ Where shall I make my moan ? 
For I am troubled with a Wife, 

Like her there's few or none. 

Like unto her there cannot be 

Another such a one : 
For when the Priest did Marry me, 

Then my good Days were gone. 

Therefore take heed good Neighbours all, 

I wish you to beware, 
For when my Wife doth Scold and Baul, 

Then Skimington is there. 

This sawcy Jack behind my Back, 

And eke before my Face : 
Maintains my Wife to Bait and Strife, 
Which is a-Woful Case. 

And now I see no Remedy, 

But I must needs complain 
On him you know, that wrought this Woe, 

In England or in Spain. 

One Skimington about doth run, 

In City and in Town, 
Come Man and Child with Spear and Shield, 

And help to beat him down. 

And you good Wives, bring out your Knives, 

And cut out both his Stones ; 
And two or three then may agree, 

To break some of his Bones. 
)K With 

64 SONGS Compleat, 

With Rakes and Reels, ond Oven-Peels, 
With Mawkin and with Flayl ; 

With Whips and Slings, and other things, 
To beat him Top and Tail. 

Then let him run to Islington, 

Or else into the Vyes, 
Where two or three they may agree 

To pick out both his Eyes. 

Then let him fly to Coventry ', 

Or else to London-stone, 
And like a wretch in Middlesex, 

There let him make his Moan. 

All Marry'd Men that see him then, 
Will shake their Heads, and say, 

He shall have neither Meat nor Drink, 
But let him march away. 

Then all the Bells in London Town 
Shall ring both fine and brave, 

When they have bury'd Skimington, 
And laid him in his Grave. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 


Jj?y long resisted 
Wully's fierce desire ; 
She the more persisted, 

Coyness rais'd his Fire. 
When he'd reap'd the Treasure, 

And the Virgin's Spoils, 
He found such short Pleasure, 
Answer'd not his Toils. 

jfenny lay neglected 

In her Lover's Arms, 
"When she was rejected, 

She try'd all her Charms : 
Then she did discover, 

That no Trick, nor Art, 
Tho't might win a Lover, 

Cou'd regain his Heart. 



66 SONGS Compleat, 

KATY'S Beauty. On Madam K. W. 

TV" Attfs a Beauty surpassing, 
J\^ She's a Sweet Garden to pass in, 
In Town there is not like a Lass in, 
So Sweet, so Charming is she. 

Her Eyes like Stars do so twinkle, 
Her Face is smooth, without wrinkle, 
Her Chin's adorn'd with a Dimple, 
Like the Charms above her Knee. 

Her Lips as Red as a Rose is, 
And round and pretty her Nose is ; 
Her Breath's a sweet mixture of Posies ; 
None on Earth's compar'd to she. 

Her Belly's a Hill of Sweet Pleasure, 
In Bush enclos'd lies the Treasure, 
If you once make but a Seasure, 
Your lost in an Extasie. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 

The QUEEN of MAY. 

UPon a time I chanced to walk along a Green, 
Where pretty Lasses danced in strife to chuse a 
Queen ; 
Some homely drest, some handsom, some pretty, and 

some gay, 

But who excell'd in Dancing, must be the Queen of 

From Morning till the Evening, their Controversy 

And I, as Judge, stood gazing on, to Crown her that 

excell'd ; 
At last when Ph<zbus Steeds had drawn their Wayn 

We found and crown'd a Damsel to be the Queen of 


F 2 Full 

68 SONGS Compleat, 

Full well her Nature from her Face I did admire, 
Her Habit well become her, altho' in poor Attire ; 
Her Carriage was so good, as did appear that Day, 
That she was justly chosen to be the Queen of May. , 

Then all the rest in Sorrow, and she in sweet Content, 
Gave over till the Morrow, and homewards strait they. 


But she of all the rest, was hindred by the way, 
For ev'ry Youth that met her, must Kiss the Queen of 


At last I caught and stay'd her a while with me alone,' 
And on a Bank I laid her, when all the rest were 


She fearing some Mischance, cry'd out, forbear I pray, 
Yet I could still do nothing but Kiss the Queen of 


Thus we together tumbled at least an hour or more, 
And like a Fool, I Fumbled, as I had done before : 
But when that Night was come, by chance I got the day, 
And yet a lass, did nothing else but Kiss the Queen; 

of May. 
Her thoughts of coming thither, both Grief and Joy 

begot, [what, 

She smil'd and wept together, yet knew not well for 
And still desir'd to go, but yet she seem'd to stay, : 
Yet I alas, &c. 

She sigh'd and pray'd for pity that I would once give 

o'er [for more : 

Yet were her Words so Wity, they shew'd she wish'd 
Then seeming to defend it, her Fort she did betray ; 

Yet I alas, &<r. 

Thus shaking Hands at last we part, but she appear'd 
Both heavy Ey'd and Hearted, with that she felt and 

fear'd ; 
Then turning round we parted, she speechless went 

her way, 

Because I could do nothing but Kiss the Queen of May. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 

The True WORLD. 


say the World is full of Pelf, 
^ But I think there's no Chink, 

For I have little my self ; 

When Pockets are full, then Gentlemen borrow, 
And one ought not to trust, 
To be paid as to Morrow. 


70 SONGS Compleat, 


Then let them seek the World throughout, 
From the Usurer, to his best Friend^ 

Ask here, and ask there, 

And the Devil a Penny they'll lend. 

Your honest Citizens bends the Brow, 
And complains there's no. Gains, 

For to be got by Gentlemen now ; 
For when he does his Book survey, 

He doth find more left behind, 
Then swears they'll never pay. 
Then let them, &c. 

When Gentlemen to th' Scrivners come, 
They will crave their Name to have, 

And the next day will give them their Doom ; 
Mean time the Usurer Plots his Head, 

About the 'state left of late 

By the Father who is yet scarce Dead, 
Then let them, &c. 

If you your Gamester will accost, 

He'll prevent your Intent, 
With G D him his Money's lost, 

Your Courtier he can Kiss your Hand, 
Cog and Lie, and deny, 

And swear if he had it, you shall it command. 

Then let them seek the World throughout \ 
From the Usurer, to his best Friend, 

Ask here, and ask there, 

And the Devil a Penny they'll lend. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 



1 njn ~ U L 

C HO. 

MY pretty Maid, fain would I know 
What thing it is will breed Delight, 
That strives to stand, yet cannot go, 
That feeds the Mouth that cannot bite. 

With a Humbledum, Grumbledum, humbledunt 

grumbledum hey. 

With a Humbledum, Grumbledum, humbledum 
grumbledum hey. 


J2 SONGS Compleat, 

It is a pretty pricking thing, 
A pleasing and a standing thing, 
'Twas the Truncheon Mars did use, 
A Bed-ward bit which Maidens chuse. 
With a Jfumbledum, &c. 

It is a Shaft of Cupid's cut, 
'Twill serve to Rove, to Prick, to Butt ; 
There's never a Maid, but by her will 
Will keep it in her Quiver still. 
With a Humbledum, &c. 

'Tis a Fryer with a Bald-Head, 
A Staff to beat a Cuckold Dead ; 
It is a Gun that shoots point-blank ; 
It hits betwixt a Woman's Flank, 
With a Humbledum, &c. 

It has a Head much like a Mole's, 
And yet it loves to creep in Holes : 
The fairest She that e'er took Life, 
For love of this, became a Wife. 


With a Humbledum, Grumbledum, humbledum 

grnmbledum hey. 
With a Humbledum y Grumbledum, humbledum, 

grumbledum hey. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 




Y Mistress is a Hive of Bees in yonder flowry 

r o" her they come with loaden Thighs, to ease them 

of their Burden : 
As under the Bee-Hive lieth the Wax, and under the 

Wax is Honey. 

So under her Waste her Belly is plac'd, and under that 
her C ny. 


74 SONGS Compleat, 

My Mistress is a Mine of Gold, would that it were her 

To let me dig within her Mould, and roll among her 

As under the Moss the Mould doth lye, and under the 

Mould is Mony, 
So under, &c. 

My Mistress in a Morn si May, which drops of Dew 

down stilleth, 
Where e'er she goes to sport and play, the Dew down 

sweetly trilleth, 
As under the Sun the Mist doth lye, so under the Mist 

it is Sunny, 
So under, &c. 

My Mistress is a pleasant Spring, that yieldeth store of 

Water sweet, 
That doth refresh each wither'd thing lies trodden under 

Her Belly is both white and soft, and downy as any 

That many Gallants wish full oft to play but with her 

C ny. 

My Mistress hath the Magick Sprays, of late she takes 

such wondrous pain, 
That she can pleasing Spirits raise, and also lay them 

down again, 
Such power hath my tripping Doe, my little pretty 

That many would their Lives forego, to play but with 

her C ny. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 


The forgetful MOTHER. 

MY Mother she will not endure 
That I should Married be, 
Altho' my Father do procure 

A Husband fit for me ; 
Wherein she doth me much abuse, 
My Father's profer to refuse ; 
For younger Maids than I are sped, 
And yet forsooth, I must not Wed. 


76 SONGS Compleat, 

My Mother she breeds all the Jars, 

And ill she does me use, 
And Love and Age breeds all the Wars, 
Which grieves me to refuse. 
Before she was as old as I, 
She with a Man six Weeks did lie ; 
Judge you how much she doth me wrong, 
To make me live a Maid so long. 

For now I am of lawful Years, 

A Twelve Month's time and more, 
As by the Church-Book plain appears, 
Which doth my Age implore. 
For now I am Sixteen years old, 
Why should I then be thus controul'd, 
And discontent to lie alone ; 
None knows my Grief, but by their own. 

I do believe in Heart and Mind, 

There is no greater Pain 
Can fall upon us Woman-kind, 
And breedeth all our Pain, 
To lie alone, all by my self, 
It breeds Disease, instead of Health ; 
And shortly it will end my Days, 
For so I know the Doctor says. 

My Father's Care I must commend, 

And Pains that he doth take ; 
My Mother speaks not as a Friend, 
That I shan't have a Mate. 
Altho' my Mother doth refuse 
That I my youthful time should use, 
I me^ii not long to stay un-wed, 
Nor yet to keep my Maiden-head. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 77 


NOT long ago as all alone I lay upon my Bed, 
'Twixt sleeping and waking, this Maggot came 

in my Head, 
Which caus'd me in the Mind to be, the meaning for 

to know, 

With Skill and Wit, and then I writ of Cuckolds all 

Methoughts I heard a Man and's Wife, as they to 
gether lay. 

Being quite void of strife, she thus to him did say, 

Quoth she, Sweet-heart, if thou wilt Sport, my Love, to 
thee I'll show 

A pretty thing shall make thee sing of Cuckolds all a- 

Peace Wife, quoth he to her again, I'm sure thou 

dost but Jest, 

Altho' I am Cornuted plain, I am no common Beast ; 
Yet ev'ry Woman's like to thee, for ought that I do 

And each Man may be like to me, Cuckolds all a-row. 

There's neither Lord, nor Gentleman, Citizen, or 


That liveth in the City, or the Country Town, 
But may carry Horns about them, tho' they them never 

For Gallants are like other Men, Cuckolds all a-row. 


7& ;b o N G s Lompleat, 

Your Tradesmen in the City, that sells by Weight 

and Measure, 
Perhaps may wear a horned Brow, for Profit or for 

When they to sell their Wares begin, that make so 

great a show, 
Their Wives may play at In and In, Cuckolds all a- 


Your Country prating Lawyers that gets the Devil and 


That Pleads every Term in Westminster Hall, 
His Wife in the Country, for ought that he does know, 
May let his Client have a Fee, Cuckolds all a-row. 

The Parson of the Parish I hope shall not go free, 
While he is in his Study, another may be 
A dandling of his Wife, and do the thing you know, 
And make him wear his Corner'd Cap, Cuckolds all a- 

If any one offended be, and think I do him wrong, 
For naming of a Cuckold, in this my merry Song, 
Let him subscribe his Name, and eke his Dwelling 

And he and I will soon agree, like Cuckolds all a-row. 


Pleasant and Divertive, 



PRithee Friend leave off thy Thinking, 
Cast thy Cares and Love away ; 
Troubles still are drown'd in Drinking, 

Do not, do not then delay ; 
Bacchus cares not for thy Will, 
But will have us Drinking still. 

Do but view this Glass of Claret, 

How invitingly it looks ; 
Drink it quickly, or you'll marr it, 

Pox. of Fighting, or of Books : 
Let us have good store of Wine, 
Hang him then that does repine. 

Call the Drawer, bid him fill it, 

As full as ever it can hold : 
O take heed you do not spill it, 

'Tis more precious far than Gold ; 
Let us Drink, and then 'twill prove, 
Drinking's better Sport than Love. 


SONGS Compleat, 

JOAN to her LADY. 

LAdy, sweet now do not frown, 
. Nor in Anger call me Clown, 
For your servant Joan may prove, 
Like your self, as deep in Love ; 
And as absolute a Bit, 
Man's sweet liquorish Tooth to fit. 
The Smock alone the difference makes, 
5 } Cause yours is spun of finer Flax. ' 

What avails the Name of Madam ? 
Came not all from Father Adam ? 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 8 r 

Where does one exceed the other ? 
Was not Eve our common Mother ? 
Then what odds 'twixt you and Joan ? 
Truly in my Judgment, none. 
The Smock, &c. 

Ladies are but Blood and Bone, 
Skin and Sinews, so is Joan, 
Joaris a Piece for a Man to bore, 
With his Wimble, your's no more. 
Then what odds, c. 

It is not your flaunting Tires, 
Are the cause of Men's Desires ; 
They're other Darts which Lusts pursue, 
Those Joan has as well as you. 
Then, c. 

What care we for Glorious Lights, 
Women are used in the Nights ; 
And in Night in Women-kind, 
Kings and Clowns like Sport do find. 
Then, &c. 

Were there two in Bed together, 
There's not a Pin to chuse 'twixt either; 
Both have Eyes, and both have Lips ; 
Both have Thighs and both have Hips. 
Then, &c. 

When your Hand puts out the Candle, 
And you at last begin to handle, 
Then you go about to do 
What you should be done unto. 
Then, &c. 

Who can but in Conscience say, 
Fie, fie, for shame away, away, 
Putting Finger in the Eye, 
Till you have a fresh Supply. 

Then, &c. 


SONGS Compleat, 

CON SENT at last. 


T Adys, why doth Love torment you ? 

J ,. Cannot I your Griefs remove ? 

Is there none that can content you 
With the sweet delights of Love ? 
O No, no, no, no, no ; No, no, no, no, no, no, no* 

Beauty in a perfect Measure, 

Hath the Love and wish of all : 
Dear, than shall I wait the Pleasure, 
That commands my Heart and all : 
No, &c. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 83 

If I grieve, and you can ease me, 

Will you be so fiercely bent, 
Having wherewithal to please me, 

Must I still be Discontent ? 
O No, &c. 

If I am your faithful Servant, 

And my Love does still remain ; 
Will you think it ill deserved, 

To be favour'd for my pain ? 
O No, &c. 

If I should then but crave a Favour, 

Which your Lips invite me to, 
Will you think it ill Behaviour 

Thus to steal a Kiss or two ? 
O No, &c. 

All Amazing Beauty's Wonder, 

May I presume your Breast to touch ? 
Or to feel a little under, 

Will you think I do too much ? 
O No, &c. 

Once more fairest, let me try ye, 

Now my wish is fully sped, 
If all Night, I would lye by ye, 

Shall I be refus'd your Bed. 

O No, no, no, no, no : O No, no, no, no, no, no, no. 

G 2 The 

#4 SONGS Compleat, 

The Glory of all CUCKOLDS. 

-&- -&-. 

T Isten Lordlings to my Story, 
I _, I will sing of Cuckolds Glory ; 
And thereat let none be vext, 
None can tell whose turn is next : 
And tho' it now is held in scorn, 
I'll Sing the praise of noble HORN. 

Diana was a Virgin pure, 

Among the rest Chaste and Demure ; 

But you know well that I am sure, 

What Acteon did endure : 

If Men have HORNS from such as she, 

I pray then let us all agree, 


Pleasant and Divertive. 

Let thy Friend enjoy his Rest, 
What tho' he wears Acteoris Crest ; 
Malice nor Venome at him spit, 
He wears but what the Gods think fit : 
Confess he is by Time's Recorder, 
Knight of great Diana's Order. 

Luna was no Venial Sinner, 

Yet she hath a Man within her ; 

And to cut off Cuckolds Scorns, 

She decks his Head with Silver HORNS 

And if the Man in Heaven's thus D rest, 

We Men on Earth like him are Blest 

A True SATYR. 
'Set by Mr. AKEROYDE. 

86 S CXN G s Compleat, 

LONG have I grieved for to see 
Of all Estates in each Degree ; 
I have Laugh'd, I have Quaft and have Wept, 
And a stir like a Cur have I kept : 
But now here I stand with a Whip in my Hand, 

Come along, come along, come along, come along, I must 
lash you, 

Come you Divines that should be Pure, 

That keep a Man to serve the Cure ; 

You do Teach not to Preach, but to show 

Places fine, Such Divines as you are slow : 

Your Benefits you'll keep, whilst another feeds the 

Comealotig, &c. 

Come you that live so by the Law, 
That keep your Neighbours so in Awe ; 
If a Hog or a Beast you espy 
In the Ground, to the Pound they must hie : 
Whole Towns you will bruit with a Pettifogging Suit, 
Come along, &c. 

Come you that brag so of your Wealth, 
Because you have a little Pelf; 
'Tis your Gold makes you so bold to do wrong, 
Men are the worse that your Purse is so strong : 
To build houses high to the Peoples Misery, 
Come along, &c. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 87 

But what's become of the Estate, 

The which your Father left of late ; 

You have no care for to spare, but to spend, 

Till you bring ev'ry thing to an end : 

You'll Drink away your Health, and Dice away your 

Come along, &c. 

Come you Quack-salvers that do kill 

Sometimes a Patient by your Skill ; 

You will urge them to Purge and let Blood, 

You will tell that it will do them good : 

You will ease them of their Purse, tho' their Bodies 

be the worse, 
Come along, &c. 

Come you Ladies that do wear 

More Fashions than Sundays in the Year ; 

With your Locks, Ribbond Knots, and silk Roses ; 

With your Spots on your Face and your Noses : 

Your bear Breasts and your Back, discover what you 

Come along, &c. 

Come you Tradesmen of the City, 

That are so Cunning and so Witty ; 

I would know how you grow Rich so fast, 

You will swear you sell your Ware for less than't cost : 

Or else you'll give the buying, but I'll not believe the 

Come along, &c. 

Come along you Puritan, 

That make your self a Holy Man ; 

Tho' you lift up your Eyes when you Pray, 

And frequent Four Sermons in a Day : 

Under pretence of pure Life, and yet will Kiss your 

Neighbour's Wife, 
Come along, &c. 


88 SONGS Compleat, 

But now I am so weary grown, 
That I must let the rest alone; 
I should slash more with my Lash, did I dare, 
Many more, now therefore them I spare : 
The rest I leave to the Judges and the Sheriffs, 
And they shall lash you. 


I ^-1 ^d I- ^ 

MY Mind to me a Kingdom is, 
Such perfect Joys therein I find ; 
That it excels all other Bliss, 

The World affords or grows by Kind : 
Tho' much I want that most would have, 
Yet still my Mind forbids to crave. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 89 

No Princely Pomp, no Wealthy store, 

No force to win the Victory ; 
No cunning Wit to salve a Sore, 

No shape to feed a loving Eye : 
To none of these am I in Thrall, 
For why, my Mind to me is all. 

Content I live with this my stay, 
I wish no more than may suffice ; 

I press to bear no mighty Sway, 

Look what I want, my Mind supplies : 

Thus do I Triumph like a King, 

Content with that my Mind doth bring. 

Some have too much, and yet do want, 

I little have, but wish no more ; 
They are but Poor, for much they want, 

And I am Rich, with little store : 
They Poor, I Rich, they Beg, I give, 
They lack, I leave, they Pine, I live. 

Some weigh their Pleasure by their Lust, 
Their Wisdom by the rage of Will ; 

Their Treasure is their only Trust, 

And crooked Craft their School of Skill : 

But all the Pleasure I can find, 

Is the Content of a quiet Mind. 

My Health is Wealth and perfect Ease, 
A Conscience clean, my chief defence ; 

I do not seek by Bribes to please, 
Nor by Deceit to give Offence : 

Thus do I live, thus will I die, 

Wou'd all did as well as I. 


SONGS Compleat, 

The Bashful SCOT. 



zztn}_j,_A~ iC- ftj- 

9 5 F F I / h 

T <7C^5y kte with ywy Walking, 
J On a Day in Summer Season ; 
Like a Lout with his Love sat talking, 
When he should be doing Reason : 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 9 1 

Jockey lost, Jockey lost, 
His time to Dally, his time to Dally, 
Whilst he cry'd, Sweet, sweet, sweet, 
Sweet Jenny, shall I? shall I? 

Jenny, as must Woman use, 

To deny when they would have it, 
With faint Tongue she did refuse, 

When her Looks did seem to crave it : 

Still he cry'd, still he cry'd, 
When he shou'd dally, when he shou'd dally, 
Jenny sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, 
Sweet Jenny, shall I? shall I? 

She that now was grown more willing, 
When she saw his backward dealing, 
To prevent her own Heart's illing, 
With a Sigh her Love revealing, 

Said alass ! said alass ! 

When he would dally ; when he would dally, 
Now you stand Sweet, sweet, sweet, 
Sweet Jenny, Shall I? Shall I? 

He perceiv'd by her Replying, 

That a Nay was Yea, in Wooing, 
And that asking without trying, 
Was the way to Love's Undoing ; 
Now he knows, now he knows, 
When he should dally, when he should dally, 
Not to stand sweet, sweet, sweet \ 
Sweet Jenny Shall I? Shall f? 



SONGS Compleat, 

The Wanton TRICK. 

= i arr-f f -f ~ f H . r 


IF any one long for a Musical Song, 
Altho' that his Hearing be thick, 
The sound that it bears will ravish his Ears, 
Whoop, 'tis but a Wanton Trick. 

A pleasant young Maid on an Instrument play'd, 
That knew neither Note, nor Prick ; 

She had a good Will to live by her Skill, 
Whoop, &c. 

A Youth in that Art well seen in his Part, 

They call'd him Darbyshire Dick, 
Came to her a Suitor, and wou'd be her Tutor, 

Whoop, &c. 


Pleasant and Diver five. 93 

To run with his Bow he was not slow, 

His Fingers were nimble and quick, 
When he play'd on his Bass, he ravish'd the Lass, 

Whoop, c. 

He Woo'd her and Taught her, until he had brought 

To hold out a Crotchet and Prick, 
And by his direction, she came to Perfection, 

Whoop, &c. 

With Playing and Wooing he still would be doing, 
And call'd her his pretty sweet Chick : 

His reasonable Motion brought her to Devotion, 
Whoop, &c. 

He pleas'd her so well, that backwards she fell, 

And swooned, as tho' she were sick ; 
So sweet was his Note, that up went her Coat, 

Whoop, &c. 

The string of his Viol she put to the Trial, 
Till she had the full length of the Stick ? 

Her white Belly'd Lute she set to his Flute, 
Whoop, &c. 

Thus she with her Lute, and he with his Flute, 

Held every Crotchet and Prick ; 
She learned at leisure, yet paid for the Pleasure, 

Whoop, &c. 

His Viol-string burst, her Tuten she Curst, 

However she play'd with the Stick, 
From October to yune.3h&. was quite out of Tune, 

Whoop, &c. 

With sheming her Hand to make the Pin stand, 

The Musick within her grew Thick, 
Of his Vial and Ltite appeared some Fruit, 

Whoop, &c. 



SONGS Compleat, 

And then she repented, that e'er she consented, 

To have either Note or Prick ; 
For Learning so well made her Belly to swell, 

Whoop, &c. 

All Maids that make trial of a Lute or a Vial, 
Take heed how you handle the Stick : 

If you like not this Order, come try my Recorder ', 
Whoop, &c. 

And if that this Ditty forsooth doth not fit ye, 
I know not what Musick to Prick, 

There's never a Strain but in time will be twain, 
Whoop, 'tis but a Wanton Trick. 

The Silly MAIDS. 

H-y CR *- I - i- 


Pkasanl and Diver five. 95 

MAids are grown so Coy of late, 
Forsooth they will not Marry ; 
hey're in their Teens and past, 
They say they yet can tarry : 
But if they knew how sweet a thing 

It is in Youth to Marry, 
They would sell their Hose and Smock, 
E'er they so long would tarry. 

Winter Nights are long you know, 

And bitter cold the Weather, 
Then who's so fond to lie alone, 

When two may lie together ? 
And is't not brave when Summer comes, 

With all the Fields inrolled, 
To take a Green-Gown on the Grass, 

And wear it uncontrouled ? 

For she that is most Coy of all, 

If she had time and leisure, 
Would lay away severest Thoughts, 

And turn to Mirth and Pleasure : 
For why, the fairest Maid sometimes 

Puts on the Face of Folly, 
And Maids do ne'er repent so much 

As when they are too Holy, 


9 6 

SONGS Compleat, 

The North-Country Mans SONG, on the 
View of London Sights. 

Set by Mr. AKEROYDE. 


WHen Ize came first to London Town, 
Ize war a Noviz, as many mo Men are; 
Ize thought the King had liv'd at the Crown, 

And all the way to Heaven had been thro' the Star. 

Ize zet up my Horse, and Ize went to Fowls, 
Uds nigs, quoth I, what a Kirk beth' here, 

Then Ize did swear by all Kurson Souls, 
It was a Mile long, or very near. 

The top wor as high as any Hill ; 

A Hill, quoth I, nay as a Mountain, 
But Ize went up with very good Will, 

But gladder was I to come down again. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 9 7 

For as I went up, my Head ga round, 
Then be it known to all Kurson People ; 

A Man is no little way fro the Ground, 
When he's o'th' top of Paul's Steeple. 

Ize lay down my Hat, and Ize went to Pray, 

But wor not this a pitiful Case ? 
A'vor Ize had done, it wor stolen away, 

Who'd a thought Thieves had been in that place. 

Now vor my Hat Ize made great moan, 

A stander by then to me said, 
Thou dost not observe the Scripture aright, 

For thou mun a watch'd as well as pray'd. 

From thence to Westminster Ize went, 
Where many a brave Lawyer Ize did see ; 

But zome there had a bad intent, 

I'm zure my Purse was stolen from me. 

Now to zee the Tombs was my desire, 
Ize went with many brave Fellows store ; 

Ize gan them a Penny, that was their Hire, 
And he's "but a Fool that will give any more. 

Then through the Rooms the Fellow me led, 
Where all the Zights were to be zeen ; 

And snuffling told me through the Nose, 

What formerly the Names of those had been. 

Here lies, quoth he, Henry the Third, 
Thou ly'st like a Knave, he says never , Word ; 

And here lies Richard the Second Interr'd, 
And here stands good King Edward's Sword. 

And under this Chair lies Jacob's Stone, 
The very same Stone is now in the Chair ; 

A very good Jest ; had Jacob but One ? 
How got he so many Sons without a pair ? 

VOL. iv. H Ize 

98 SONGS Compleat, 

Ize staid not there, but down with the Tide, 
Ize made great hast, and Ize went my way ; 

For Ize was to zee the Lyons beside, 
And the Paris-Garden all in a Day. 

When Ize came there, Ize was in a Rage, 
Ize rail'd on him that kept the Bears ; 

Instead of a Stake, was suffer'd a Stage, 
And in Hunks his House a Crew of Players. 

Then through the Bridge to the Tower Ize went, 

With much ado Ize entered in : 
And after a Penny that I had spent, 

One with a loud Voice did thus begin. 

This Lyon's the King's, and that's the Queen's 
And this is the Princes that stands hereby : 

With that I went near to look in the Den, 
Cods body ! quoth he, why come you so nigh. 

Ize made great haste unto my Inn, 

Ize Zupt, and Ize went to Bed betimes ; 

Ize Slept, and Ize Dream'd what I had Zeen, 
And wak'd again by Cheap-side Chimes. 

Pleasant and Diver live. 


A BALLAD of the Courtier and the Country 


YOUR Courtiers scorn we Country Clowns, 
We Country Clowns care not for Court ; 
But we'll be as merry upon the Downs, 

As you are at Midnight with all your Sport. 

With a Padding, &c. 

You Hawk, you Hunt, you lie upon Pallets, 

You Eat, you Drink, the Lord knows how ; 
We sit upon Hillocks, and pick up our Sallets, 
And drink up a Sillibub under a Cow. 

With a Padding, &c. 
H 2 

TOO SONGS Compleat, 

Your Masques are made for Knights and Lords, 

And Ladies that go fine and gay ; 
We Dance to such Musick the Bag-pipe affords, 

And trick up our Lasses as well as we may, 

With a Padding, &c. 

Your Cloaths are made of Silk and Sattin, 
And ours are made of good Sheeps Grey ; 

You mix your Discourses with pieces of Latin, 
We speak our English as well as we may. 

With a Padding, &c. 

Your Chambers are hung with Cloth of Arras, 
Our Meadows bedeck'd as fine as may be ; 

And from our Sport you never shall bar us, 

Since Joan in the Dark, is as good as my Lady. 

With a Padding, &c. 

Your Courtiers clip and cull upon Beds, 
We Jumble our Lasses upon the Grass ; 

And when we have gotten their Maiden-heads, 
They serve to make a Courtier's Lass. 

With a Padding, &c. 

You Dance Courants and the French Braul, 

We Jig the Morris upon the Green ; 
And we make as good sport in a Country-Hall, 

As you do before the King and the Queen. 

With a Padding, &c. 

Then Ladies do not us disdain, 

Although we wear no gaudy Cloaths ; 
You'll find as much Pith in a Country Swain, 

When he plucks up your gay Embroider'd Cloaths. 

With a Padding^ &c. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 


Words by BEN. JOHNSON. 

COok-Lorrel would needs have the Devil his Guest, 
And bid him once into the Peak to Dinner ; 
Where never the Fiend had such a Feast, 
Provided him yet at the charge of a Sinner. 

His Stomach was queasie, (for coming there Coach'd) 
The jogging had caus'd some Crudities rise ; 

To help it he call'd for a Puritan poach'd, 
That used to turn up the Eggs of his Eyes. 

And so recovered unto his Wish, 

He sat him down, and he fell to Eat; 
Promoter in Plumb-broth was the first Dish, 

His own privy Kitchin had no such Meat. 

Yet tho' with this he much were taken, 
Upon a sudden he shifted his Trencher, 

As soon as he spied the Bawd and Bacon, 
By this you may note the Devil's a Wencher. 


IO2 SONGS Compleat y 

Six pickled Taylors sliced and cut, 

Sempsters, Tire-women, fit for his Pallet ; 

With Feather-Men and Perfumes put, 

Some Twelve in a Charger to make a grand Sallet 

A Rich fat Usurer stewed in his Marrow, 

And by him a Lawyers Head and Green-sawce , 

Both which his Belly took in like a Barrow, 
As if till then he had never seen Sawce. 

Then Carbonado'd and Cook'd with pains, 
Was brought up a Cloven Serjeant's Face ; 

The Sawce was made of the Yeoman's Brains, 
That has been beaten out with his own Mace. 

Two roasted Sheriffs came whole to the Board, 
(The Feast had nothing been without 'em) 

Both living and dead they were Fox'd and Furr'd, 
Their Chains like Sausages hung about 'em. 

The very next Dish was the Mayor of a Town, 

With a Pudding of Maintenance thrust in his Belly ; 

Like a Goose in the Feathers drest in his Gown, 
And his couple of Hindi-Boys boil'd to a Jelly. 

A London Cuckold hot from the spit, 

And when the Carver up had broke him ; 

The Devil chopt up his Head at a bit, 

But the Horns were very near like to have choak'd 

The Chine of a Letcher too there was roasted, 
With a plump Harlot's Haunch and Garlick ; 

A Pandor's Pettitoes that had boasted 

Himself for a Captain, yet never was Warlike, 

A large fat Pasty of a Midwife hot, 

And for cold bak'd Meat into the Story ; 

A reverend Painted Lady was brought, 

And Coffm'd in Crust till now she was hoary. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 103 

To these, an overgrown Justice of the Peace, 

With a Clark like a Gizard thrust under each Arm ; 

And Warrants for Sippets laid in his own Grease, 
Set over a Chaffing-dish to be kept warm. 

The Jowl of a Jaylor served for Fish, 

A Constable sous'd with Vinegar by ; 
Two Aldermen-Lobsters asleep in a Dish, 

A Deputy-Tart, a Church- Warden-Pye. 

All which devour'd he, then for a close, 

Did for a full Draught of Darby call ; 
He heav'd the huge Vessel up to his Nose, 

And left not till he drank up all. 

Then from the Table he gave a start, 

Where Banquet and Wine were nothing scarce ; 

All which he started away with a Fart, 

From whence it was called the Devil's Arse. 

And there he made such a breath with the Wind, 
The hole too standing open the while ; 

That the scent of the Vapour before and behind, 
Hath foully perfumed most part of the Isle. 

And this was Tobacco, the Learned suppose, 
Which since in Country, Court and Town ; 

In the Devil's Glister-pipe smoaks at the Nose 
Of Polecat and Madam, of Gallant and Clown. 

From which wicked Weed, with Swine's-flesh and Ling, 
Or any thing else that's feast for the Fiend ; 

Our Captain and we cry God save the King, 
And send him good Meat and Mirth without end. 


SONGS Compleat, 



T Am a Lover, and 'tis true ; 

J_ Fair Daphne I'm in Love with you ; 
Woman thou art, for ought I see, 
Yet more assur'd I wish to be : 


Pleasant and Divertive. 

Such Trial then do not refuse, 
As all Men in their Bargains use. 

Men feel the Pullen when they lay, 
If they be plump, and so wou'd I, 
Men ride their Nags, and try their Pace, 
The like would I do in this case. 
Who will buy Land, e'er they do know, 
What Fruit on it is apt to grow ? 

Now if any of my Parts, or all, 
You will then to Tryal call, 
You shall both see, and feel, and taste. 
Lest you repent your Bargain past : 
Then Part with Part let us Compare, 
There's no Deceit in open Ware. 

Your Legs and Feet are strait and fine, 
And look you here pray what are mine ? 
You have a round and lusty Thigh ; 
And look you here, pray what have I ? 
But yet that part that all must bind, 
O shew not, least you strike me Blind. 


Old English ALE. 

io6 SONGS Compleat, 

0-m =^ 

T Have been East, and I have been West, 
J_ I have been far in the Nor -th- Country ; 
I have drank Wine and Beer of the best, 
And Liquor that Men call Ipse. 

I've been in Flanders and in France, 

I've been in Spain and Italy ; 
And I've seen many a Man by chance, 

Fall down to the Ground with Ipse. 

The strongest Wine in Flanders or Spain, 

Or yet in the Palgravds Country, 
'Tis nothing like t'our English Ale, 

That Liquor of Life, called Ipse. 

The strongest Soldier that ever did fight, 
Or the bravest Commander of a Marshalsea, 

May be brought to the Ground, I hold him a Groat, 
If he swagger too long with Ipse. 

The Preacher, the Teacher, the Priest and the Clark, 

The Doctor of Law and Divinity ; 
May stumble and fall sometimes in the Dark 

If their Caps be fudled with Ipse. 

It makes grave Counsellors slumber and sleep, 
When they should speak they cannot see, 

They sit like Momes, for want of Wit, 
When their Caps be fudled with Ipse. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 107 

The whiffling Gallants of the Inns of Court, 

. Do hinder their Studies certainly, 
They're sometimes glad to pawn their Suit, 
For fudling their Caps with Ipse. 

The Papist, the Puritan Protestant too, 
And all other Religions whatever they be, 

Altho' in some Points they cannot agree, 
Yet none of them differ in Ipse. 

The Taylor that eats more Bread at a Meal, 
Than any Tradesman does at three, 

A half-penny Loaf will serve him a Week, 
If his Cap be fudled with Ipse. 

The Smith and the Shoemaker is not behind, 
They never were, nor never will be, 

If they be Drunk, 'tis but their Kind, 
To fuddle their Caps with Ipse. 

If Tradesmen they would but forego, 
The Vices that hinder their Quality, 

The Malt-man may go hang himself, 
And the Brewer with his strong Ipse. 

SON G s Conipleat, 

The Growth ofCUCKOLDOM. ' 

I Find I am a Cuckold, 
I care not who doth know it ; 
It is my Doom, therefore welcome, 

I mean to undergo it. 
Which makes me sing, Come along, come along, 

All you that deride or scorn, 
The proudest he who e'er he be, 
Perchance will wear the Horn. 

The Parson of our Parish, 

That no Man thinks Polluted, 
Along with me for Company, 

He kindly goes Cornuted. 
Which makes me sing, come along, &c. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 1 09 

It is a darksom Passion, 

And y_et there is no fear on't, 
Like an Ague Fit they come by it, 

Pew Gentlemen are clear on't. 
Which, c. 

Ten thousand in this Kingdom, 

Are subject to this Branding, 
As Squires and Knights, and City Wiglits, 

For want of Understanding. 
Which, &c. 

The best Jest that ever I heard, 
One swore his Wife was Constant, 

When behind the Screen, and a Door between, 
He was Cuckold in an Instant. 
Which, &c. 

At Westminster in Term time, 

When all the Lawyers Musters, 
Like Bucks in May you may see them play, 

With their Velvet Shooes in Clusters. 
Which, &c. 

If you walk the Town of London, 

Where the Flat-caps call Men Cousins, 
If you look about my Masters out, 

You'll find Thirteen to the Dozen. 
Which makes me sing, Come along, come along, 

All you that deride or scorn, 
The proudest he who Jer he be, 

Perchance will wear the Horn. 


SONGS Compleat, 
If every Woman was servd in her kind. 

^^b^zzfrzfbr^pzz^ . :$z= =1 
te-_4 r -4==EL-4=: , zJES ^-1 

IF every Woman was serv'd in her Kind, 
And every Man had his due Desert, 
The Rooms in Bridewel would be well lin'd, 

And a Coach would not pass in the Streets for a 

Yet I'm a little vex'd at the Heart, 

And fain wou'd I have my grief to be known 
The Parish would have me play a fine Part, 
And Father a Child that is none of my own. 

Full Twelve Months I cross'd the Seas, 

Mean time I was crost as much on the Land, 
For all the while my Wife sat at her ease, 

And had her Companions at her Command ; 
There's never a Gallant but set at her Hand, 

And said it was pity she should be alone, 
And now they would have me subscribe to a Bond, 

And Father, &c. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 1 1 1 

Let every Father take care for his Child, 

And seek to provide for the Mother and that, 
Altho' I'm a Buck, I am not so Wild, 

To nail up my Horns for another Man's Hat, 
I'll never grieve, but let it pass, 

Since 'tis my Fortune to be overthrown, 
Altho' I'm an Ox, I'll ne'er be an Ass, 

To Father, &c. 

A Man may be made a Cuckold by chance, 

And put out another Man's Child to Nurse, 
And hoodwink his Horns with Ignorance, 

But he that's a Wittal is ten times worse ; 
And that knows his Cross and his Curse, 

And still will be led by a Strumpet's Moan, 
May sit and sell Horns at Britain 's Burse, 

For Fathering^ &c. 

And if that you will be my Judge, 

Isn't that Man wonderful base, 
To be another Man's Slave and his Drudge, 

And sell all his Credit for Disgrace ? 
No, I was never sprung from that Race, 

To call that my Seed that another hath sown, 
And I'll never look our King in the Face, 

If I Father a Child that is none of my own. 


SONGS Compleat, 


T Prithee Sweet-heart grant me my desire, 
\ For I am thrown as the old Proverb goes, 
Out of the Frying-pan, into the Fire, 

And there is none that pities my Woes. 
Then hang or drown thy self, my Muse, 
For there is not a T d to chuse. 

Most Maids prove Coy of late, tho' they seem Holier, 

Yet I believe they are all of a Mind ; 
Like unto like, quoth the Devil to the Collier, 

And they'll be true when the Devil is Blind : 
Let no one trust to their desire, 
For the burnt Child still dreads the Fire. 

What tho' my Love as white as a Dove is, 
Yet you would say, if you knew all within ; 

Shitten come Shite the beginning of Love is, 
And for her Favour I care not a Pin : 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 113 

No Love of mine she e'er shall be, 
Sir-Reverence of her Company. , 

What tho' her Disdainfulness my Heart hath cloven, 

Yet I am of so stately a Mind j 
I'll not creep in her A to bake in her Oven, 

Tho' 'tis an old Proverb, that Cat will to kind : 
But I will say until I die, 
Farewel and be hang'd, that's twice Good-bye. 

Alas, no Enjoyments, nor Comfort I can take, 
In her that regards not the worth of a Lover ; 

A T is as good for a Sow, as a Pancake : 
Swallow that Gudgeon, I'll Fish for another, 

She ne'er regards my aking Heart, 

Tell a Mare a Tale, she'll let a Fart. 

Now I'm sure as my Shoe is made of Leather, 
Without good advisement and fortunate helps ; 

We two shall ne'er set our Horses together, 

For she's like a Bear being rob'd of her Whelps : 

But as for me it shall ne'er be said, 

You've brought an old House over your Head. 

Lo, this is my Counsel to young Men that Wooe, 
Look well before you leap, handle your Geer ; 

For if you Wink and Shite, you'll ne'er see what you 

So you may take a wrong Sow by the Ear : 

But if she prove her self a Flurt, 

Then she may do as does my Shirt. 

Fall Back, or fall Edge, I never shall bound be, 
To make a Match with Tag-rag, and Long-tail ; 

He that's born to hang, never shall drown'd be, 
Best is best cheap, if you hit not the Nail : 

Shall I toil Gratis in the Dirt, 

First she shall do as does my Shirt. 

VOL. iv. i Cupid 

H4 SONGS Compleat, 

CUPID no PHYSICIAN. Set by S. Teno. 

tx Tr * 


A Rest- 

Pleasant and Diver live. 115 

A Restless Lover I espy'd, 
That went from Place to Place, 
Lay down and turn'd from Side to Side, 

And sometimes on his Face ; 
But when those Med'cines were apply'd, 

In hopes of Intermission, 
Like one that found no ease, he cry'd, 
Has Cupid no Physician. 

What do those Ladies with their Looks, 

Their Kisse.s and their Smiles ; 
Can no Receipt in those fair Books, 

Repair their former Spoils ? 
But they complain as well as we, 

Their Pains have no remission ; 
And when both Sexes wounded be, 

Hath Cupid no Physician. 

Have we such Palsies and such Pains, 

Such Fevers and such Fits, 
No quick Essential Chimick Grains, 

No SEsculapius Wits ? 
No Creature can beneath the Sun, 

Prevail in opposition, 
And when such Wonders may be done, 

Hath, &c. 

Into what Poisons do they dip, 

Their Arrows and their Darts, 
That touching but our Finger ends, 

The pain doth prick our Hearts, 
Now I perceive before I get, 

Into the Inquisition, 
Death never had a Surgeon yet, 

Nor Cupid a Physician. 



SONGS Compleat, 

The Young Maid's PORTION. 

^_p_U- g^i T > * ^f-m -* 1 

NOw all my Friends are laid in Grave, 
And nothing they have left me, 
But a Mark a Year my Mother gave, 
By which for to protect me : 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 117 

Yet I live on the Leagure still, 
As brave as any Lady, 
And all is with a Mark a Year, 
The which my Mother gave me. 

I have my Pimps at my Command, 

My Coach upon me tending, 
If any one be cut or slash'd, 

Or any one Offending, 
They'll bear me out of all the Rout, 
As brave as any Lady, 
And all is with a Mark a Year, 
The which my Mother gave me. 

My high Commode, my Damask Gown, 

My lac'd Shoes of Spanish Leather, 
A Silver-Bodkin in my Head, 

And a dainty Plume of Feather, 
I'll take Tobacco with a Grace, 
As brave as any Lady, 
And all is with a Mark a Year, 
The which my Mother gave me. 

A Lord, a Knight, a Gentleman, 

Is welcome to my Oven ; 
The finical Courtier with his Tricks, 

Whose Beard's but newly shaven, 
All's one to me, whoe'er he be, 

He's welcome still as may be, 
God a mercy Mother, for thy Gift 

It's a Portion for a Lady. 


n8 SONGS Compleat, 

The RESOLUTION. Set by Mr. King. 

9-C m 0P & 1- ^-^ 7-= a-i f 8 ^ 1^ 1 


NOw fie upon a Jealous Brain, 
That doth his Love mistrust, 
Whose scorching Blood runs through each Vein, 

To Judge his Looks unjust : 
Give me that noble minded Heart, 

That never will do so, 
But Loves by Nature, not by Art, 
And let all others go. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 1 1 9 

Let no Man think that Cupids Shot, 

Can wound an Honest Breast, 
He that still fears a Jealous Plot, 

Will never live at rest : 
That Man I love that hates to fear 

The slander of a Foe, 
'Tis he that shall my Favour wear, 

And let all others go. 

If any do my Vertue Praise, 

And thinks to flatter me, 
His Subtile Tongue his Heart betrays, 

His Follies I can see ; 
That Man I'll have, will not suspect, 

An honest Woman's No, 
Tis he shall be my choice Elect, 

And let, &c. 

Some Men by Witchcraft seek to gain, 

Their Love with charmed Spice, 
Such Love I scorn to entertain, 

Fram'd by a base device ; 
Til humour him that seeks no Charms, 

Nor Cerberus Cups below, 
I'll hug him in my Ivory Arms, 

And let, c. 

He that threatens when I smile, 

I'll vex him when he weeps ; 
He that Loves but a Watching while, 

I'll Horn him when he Sleeps : 
But he that with unspotted Breast, 

Bears Love as pure as Snow, 
Shall be my Guest at Cupid's Feast, 

And let all others go. 



SONGS Compleat, 

LOVE for LOVE. Set by Mr. King. 

SHall I wasting in Despair, 
Die because a Woman's Fair, 
Or make pale my Cheeks with Care, 
Because anothers Rosie are : 
Be she Fairer than the Day, 
Or the flowry Mead in May, 
If she think not well of me, 
What care I how Fair she be. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 1 2 1 

Shall my foolish Heart be pin'd, 
'Cause I see a Woman's kind ; 
Or a well-disposed Nature 
Joined with a comely Feature ? 
Be she mild, or kinder than 
The Turtle-Dove, or Pelican : 
If she be not so to me, 
What care I how Kind she be. 

Shall a Woman's Vertue move, 
Me to Perish for her Love ; 
Or her Merits Value known, 
Make me quite forget my own ? 
Be she with Goodness blest, 
As may deserve of Men the best ; 
If she be not so to me, 
What care I how good she be. 

'Cause her Fortune seems too high, 
Shall I play the fool and Die ? 
She that bears a noble Mind, 
If not outward Helps she find : 
Thinks what with them she will do, 
That without them she dares Wooe ; 
And unless that Mind I see, 
What care I how good she be. 

Be she Good, or Kind, or Fair, 
I will ne'er the more Despair ; 
If she love me, this believe, 
I will die e'er she shall Grieve : 
If she slight me when I Wooe, 
I will scorn and slight her too ; 
For if see be not fit for me, 
What care I for whom she be. ' 



SONGS Compleat, 

The Country Mans DELIGHT. 


T N Summer time, when Flowers do Spring, 
J^ And Birds sit on a Tree ; 
Let Lords and Knights say what they will, 
There's none so Merry as we : 
There's Will z&& Moll, 
Here's Harry and Doll, 
With Brian and bonny Betty ; 
Oh, how they did jerk it, 
Caper and ferk it. 
Under the Green-wood Tree. 

Our Musick in a little Pipe, 

That can so sweetly play ; 
Whom we do hire from Whitsontide, 

Till latter Lamas-day : 


Pleasant and Diver five. 1 2 3 

On Sabbath-days, 
And Holy-days, 

After Evening-Prayer comes he : 
And then, &c. 

Come play us Adam and Eve, says Dick, 

What's that, says little Pipe ? 
It is the beginning o' th' World, quoth Dick, 
For we are Dancing-ripe : 
It's that you call, 
Then have at all, 
He plaid with a merry Glee : 
O then, &c. 

In comes our Gaffer Underwood, 

And sets him on the Bench ; 
His Wife and Daughter Nder-be-good, 
That pretty round-fac'd Wench : 
There's Neighbour Chuck, 
And Habakkuk, 
They all come there to see : 
O how, &c. 

From thence we go to Sir William's Ground, 

And a Rich Old Cub is he ; 
And there we Dance around, around, 
But the Devil a Penny we see : 
From thence we get, 
To Sommerset, 

Where Men be frolick and free : 
And there, &c. 


MY Lord's Son must not be forgot, 
So full of merry Jest ; 
ighs to see the Girls so hot, 
And jumps in with the rest : 


124 SONGS Compleat, 

He doth them assail 
With his Calves-Tail, 
And he thrusts it in to see, 
O how they do, &c. 

A Pox of all those snuffling Knaves, 

That do our Sports despise : 
We value not the sneaking Slaves, 
They're more precise than Wise : 
Bots on them all, 
Both great and small, 
And such Hypocrise : 
For we will, &c. 

Tho' bonny Nell do bear the Bell, 

'Mongst Gallants gay and gaudy ; 
Our Margery's as light as she, 
And yet she is not Baudy : 
When she with trusty Arthur meets, 
And Bob with Barnaby ; 
O f how they do frig it, 
Jump it and Jigg it, 
Under the Green-wood Tree. 

We fear no Plots of Jews or Scots, 

For we are jolly Swains ; 
With Plow and Cow, and Barley-Mow, 
We busie all our Brains : 

No City Cares, 

Nor Merchant's Fears 
Of Wreck, or Piracy ; 

Therefore we can Plant it, 

Revel and Rant it, 
Under the Green-wood Tree. 

O'er Hills and Dales, and Whitson-Ales, 

We Dance a Merry fit ; 
When Susan sweet with John doth meet, 

She gives him Hit for Hit : 


Pleasant and Diver live. 125 

From Head to Foot, 

She holds him to't, 
And Jumps as high as he ; 

O how they do spring it, 

Flounce it and fling it, 
Under the Green-wood Tree. 

With Ribbond red in Hat on Head, 

Young Ralph doth skip and jump ; 
Joan has a new long Scarf of blue ; 
That reaches to her Rump : 

With Petticoats 

As light as Moats, 
Which in the Sun we see ; 

O ! how they did skip it. 

Trample and Trip it, 
Under the Green-wood Tree. 

No time is spent with more content, 
In City, Court, or Camp ; 
e fear no Covent-Garden Gout, 
Nor Pickadilly Cramp : 

From Scurvy we 

Are always free, 
And evermore shall be ; 

So long as we Whisk it, 

Frig it and frisk it, 
Under the Green-wood Tree'. 

On Meads and Launs, we trip like Fauns, 

Like Fillies, Kids, or Lambs \ 
We have no twinge to make us cringe 
Or crinkle in the Hams : 

When some Disease 

Doth on us seize, 
With one Consent go we ; 

To Jigg it and Jirk it, 

Caper and Ferk it, 
Under the Green-wood Tree. 


126 SONGS Compleat, 

When we're well fir'd, and almost tir'd, 

That Night is drawing on : 
And that we must confess (as just) 
Our Dancing day is done : 

The Night is spent 

With more content, 
For then we all agree ; 

To Cock it and Dock it, 

Smock and Knock it, 
Under the Green-wood Tree. 

A Mock SONG to, Oh, lead me to some Peace 
ful Gloom. To the same Tune. 

OH, oh, lead me, lead me to some peaceful Room, 
Where none but honest, none but honest, 

honest Fellows come \ 
Where our Wives, our Wives Clappers never sound, 

never, never sound, 

But an eternal Hush, an eternal Hush goes round : 
There let me drown in Wine my Pain, 
There let me drown in Wine my Pain, 
And never, never think of Home, never, never think 

of Home, never, never think of Home, 
Never, never, never, never, never think of Home 

again : 
What Comfort, what Comfort, what Comfort can a 

Husband have ? 

Who Marries, who Marries to be a Slave ? 
What Comfort, what Comfort can a Husband have, 
Who Marries, who Marries, who Marries to be more, 
More a Slave, to, to be more, to, to be more, to, to be 

more, more a Slave. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 


Three Glorious Things. 
Set by Mr. TENOE. 

IT is my Delight both Night and Day, 
To Praise the Women as much as I may ; 
Three Things be glorious, 
I'll tell you if I can-, 
The Sun, an Angel, and a Woman. 
// is my Delight both Night and Day, 
To Praise the Women as much as I may. 


128 SONGS Compleat, 

Three things be Precious, 
I'll tell you if I can, 
Bright Pearl, fine Gold, and a Woman. 
// is my Delight, &c. 

Three things there be Lowring, 
I'll tell you if I can, 

A Pidgeon, a Turtle-Dove, and a Woman. 
// is my Delight, &c. 

Three things there be Loving, 
I'll tell you if I can, 
An Ape, an old Fox, and a Woman. 
// is my Delight, &c. 

Three things will be Angry, 
I'll tell you if I can, 
A Wasp, a Weasel, and a Woman. 
// is my Delight, &c. 

Three things will be scratching, 
I'll tell you if I can, 
A Cat, a Brier, and a Woman. 
// is my Delight, &c. 

Three things will be a Chattering, 
I'll tell you if I can, 
A Pye, a Popinjay, and a Woman. 
// is my Delight, &c. 

Three things will lie close to a Man, 
I'll tell you if I can, 
A Flea, a Louse, and a Woman. 
It is my Delight, &c. 

Three things must be Beaten, 
I'll tell you if I can, 

A Stock-fish, a Mill-stone, and a Woman. 
// is my Delight, &c. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 129 

Three things must be stuffed, 
I'll tell you if I can ; 
A Pudding, a Cushion, and a Woman. 
// is, &c. 

Three things there are ill to Tame, 
I'll tell you if I can, 
The Devil, a Wild-Colt, and a Woman, 
// M, &c. 

Three things there are will make you Lean, 
I'll tell you if I can, 

Brown Bread, small drink, and a curst Quean. 
It is, &c. 

From these three Plagues, I'll pray as I can, 
To bless and to keep every Honest Man. 
// is, &c. 

A RIDDLE Wittily Expounded. 




130 SONGS Compleat, 

THere was a Lady in the North-Country, 
Lay the Bent to the Bonny Broom, 
And she had lovely Daughters three, 
Fa, la la la, fa, la la la ra re. 

There was a Knight of Noble worth, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
Which also lived in the North, 

Fa, la, &c. 

The Knight of Courage stout and brave, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
A Wife he did desire to have, 

Fa la, &c. 

He knocked at the Lady's Gate, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
One Evening when it was late, 

Fa la, &c. 

The youngest Sister let him in, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
And pinn'd the Door with a Silver Pin, 

Fa la, &c. 

The second Sister she made his Bed, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
And laid soft Pillows under his Head, 

Fa la, &c. 

The Youngest that same Night, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
She went to Bed to this young Knight, 

Fa la, &c. 

And in the Morning when it was Day, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
These words unto him she did say, 

Fa la, &c. 

Now you have had your will (quoth she) 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
I pray Sir Knight you Marry me, 

Fa la, &c. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 131 

The young brave Knight to her reply'd, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
Thy Suit, Fair Maid shall not be deny'd. 

Fa la, &c. 

If thou can'st answer me Questions three, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
This very Day I will Marry thee, 

Fa la, &c. 

Kind Sir, in Love, O then quoth she, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
Tell me what your three Questions be, 

Fa la, &c, 

O what is longer than the Way ? 

Lay the Bent, &c 
Or what is- deeper than the Sea ? 

Fa la, &c. 

Or what is louder than a Horn ? 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
Or what is sharper than a Thorn ? 

Fa la, &c. 

Or what is greener than the Grass ? 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
Or what is worse than a Woman was ? 

Fa la, &c. 

The Damsel's Answer to the Three Questions. 

OLove is longer than the way, 
Lay the Bent, &c. 
And Hell is deeper than the Sea, 
Fa la, &c. 

And Thunder's louder than the Horn, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
And Hunger's sharper than a Thorn, 

Fa la, &c. 

K 2 And 

132 SONGS Compleat, 

And Poyson's greener than the Grass, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
And the Devil's worse than the Woman was, 

Fa la, &c. 

When she these Questions answered had, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
The Knight became exceeding glad, 

Fa la, &c. 

And having truly tried her Wit, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
He much commended her for it, 

Fa la, &c. 

And after as 'tis verifi'd, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
He made of her his lovely Bride, 

Fa la, &c. 

So now fair Maidens all adieu, 

Lay the Bent, &c. 
This Song I dedicate to you, 
Fa la, &c. 

I wish that you may Constant prove, 
Lay the Bent to the bonny Broom, 

Unto the Man that you do Love, 
fa t la la la, fa, la la la ra re. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 

The Cumberland LASS. 

THere was a Lass in Cumberland, 
A bonny Lass of high Degree : 
There was a Lass, her Name was Nell, 
The blithest Lass that e'er you see : 
Oh / to Bed to me, to Bed to me, 

The Lass that comes to Bed to me : 
Blith and bonny may she be, 

The Lass that comes to Bed to me. 

Her Father lov'd her passing well, 
So did her Brother fancy Nell : 

But all their Loves came short of mine, 
As far as Tweed \s from the Tyne, 
Oh ! to Bed to me, to Bed to me, c. 

She had five Dollars in a Chest, 
Four of them she gave to me ; 

She cut her Mother's Winding-Sheet, 
And all to make a Sark for me, 

Oh / to Bed to me, to Bed to me, &c. 


134 SONGS Compleat, 

She pluck'd a Box out of her Purse, 
Of four Gold Rings she gave me three 

She thought herself no whit the worse, 
She was so very kind to me, 

Oh ! to Bed to me, to Bed to me, &c. 

If I were Lord of all the North, 

To Bed and Board she should be free, 

For why, she is the bonniest Lass, 
That is in all her own Country, 
Oh / to Bed to me, &c. 

Her Cherry-Cheeks and Ruby Lips, 
Doth with the Damask Rose agree, 

With other Parts which I'll not Name, 
Which are so pleasing unto me : 
Oh / to Bed to me, &c. 

For I have rid both East and West, 
And been in many a strange Country, 

Yet never met with so kind a Lass, 
Compared with Cumberland Nelly. 
Oh / to Bed to me, &c. 

When I embrace her in my Arms, 
She takes it kind and courteously, 

And hath such pretty winning Charms, 
The like whereof you ne'er did see : 
Oh ! to Bed to me, &c. 

There's not a Lass in Cumberland 

To be compar'd to smiling Nell, 
She hath so soft and white a Hand, 

And something more that I'll not tell, 
Oh ! to Bed to me, &c. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 135 

Up to my Chamber I her got, 
There I did treat her courteously, 

I told her, I thought it was her Lot 
To stay all Night and Lig with me, 
Oh 7 to Bed to me, &c. 

She, pretty Rogue, could not say nay, 

But by consent we did agree, 
That she for a fancy, there should stay, 

And come at night to Bed to me ; 
Oh ! to Bed to me, &c. 

She made the Bed both broad and wide, 
And with her Hand she smooth'd it down ; 

She kiss'd me thrice, and smiling said, 
My Love, I fear thou wilt sleep to soon : 
Oh ! to Bed to me, &c. 

Into my Bed I hasted strait, 

And presently she follow'd me, 
It was in vain to make her wait, 

For a Bargain must a Bargain be, 
O / to Bed to me, &c. 

Then I embrac'd this lovely Lass, 

And strok'd her Wem so bonnily, 
But for the rest we'll let it pass, 

For she afterward sung Lulaby ; 
Oh ! to Bed to me, to Bed to me, 

The Lass that came to Bed to me, 
Blith and Bonny sure was she, 

The Lass that came to Bed to me. 



SONGS Compleat, 

The Northumberland BAGPIPE. 



A Shepherd set him under a Thorn, 
He pulFd out his Pipe and began for to play, 
It was on a Midsummers- day in the Morn, 

For Honour of that Holy-day : 
A Ditty he did chant along, 

That goes to the Tune of Cater-Bordee , 
And this was the burthen of his Song, 
Ifthou wilt Pipe Lad I'll dance to thee, 
to thee, to thee, derry, derry, to thee, &c. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 137 

And whilst this Harmony he did make, 

A Country Damsel from the Town, 
A Basket on her Arm she had, 

A gathering Rushes on the Down ; 
Her Bongrace of Wended Straw ; 

From the Sun's hot Beams her Face is free, 
And thus she began when she him saw, 

If thou wilt Pipe Lad, Pll dance to thee, &c. 

Then he pull'd out his Pipe, and began to sound, 

Whilst tempting on her Back she lay, 
But when his quavering Note she found, 

How sweetly then this Lass could Play : 
She stopp'd all Jumps, and she reveal'd, 

She kept all Time with Harmony, 
And looking on him, sighing said, 

If thou wilt Pipe Lad, I'll Dance to thee, c. 

She never so much as blush'd at all, 

The Musick was so charming sweet, 
But e'er anon to him she'd call, 

And bid him active, turn and meet ; 
As thou art a boon Shepherd's Swain, 

I am a Lass am come to Wooe thee, 
To play me another double Strain, 

And doubt not but I will Dance to thee, &c. 

Altho' I am but a silly Maid, 

Who ne'er was brought up at Dancing-School, 
But yet to the Jig that thou hast plaid, 

You find that I can keep Time and Rule ! 
Now see that you keep your Stops aright, 

For Shepherd, I am resolv'd to view thee, 
And play me the Damsel's chief Delight, 

Then never doubt but I'll Dance to thee, &c. 

The Shepherd again did Tune his Pipe, 
And plaid her a Lesson loud and shrill, 

The Damsel his Face did often wipe, 
With many a Thank for his Good Will ; 


138 SONGS Comp leaf y 

And said, I was ne'er so pleas'd before, 
And this is the first time that I knew thee, 

Come play me this very Jig once more, 
And never doubt but III Dance to thee, &c. 

The Shepherd, he said, as I am a Man, 

I have kept Playing from Morning till Noon, 

Thou know'st I can do no more than I can ; 
My Pipe is clearly out of Tune ; 

To ruin a Shepherd I'll not seek, 

Said she, for why should I undo thee, 

I can come again to the Down next Week, 
And thou shall Pipe, and I'll Dance to 
to thee, to thee, derry, derry to thee. 

The Hide-Park FROLICK. 

Pleasant and Diver tive. 


ONE Evening a little before it was dark, 
sing, tan tara rara tan-vivee ; 
I call'd for my Gelding, and rid to Hide-park, 

on tan tara, rara tan-tivee ; 
It was in the merry Month of May, 
When Meadows and Fields were gaudy and Gay, 
And Flowers apparell'd as bright as the Day, 
/ got upon my Tan-tivee. 

The Park shone brighter than the Skies, 

sing tan tara, rara Tan-tivee, 
With Jewels and Gold, and Ladies Eyes, 

that sparkled, and cry'd, come see me ; 
Of all parts of England, Hide-park hath the Name, 
For Coaches and Horses and Persons of Fame, 
It looked at first sight like a Field full of Flame, 
Which made me Ride up Tan-tivee. 

There hath not been such sight since Adam's, 

for Perriwig, Ribbond, and Feather, 
Hide-park may be term'd the Market of Madams, 

or, Lady-Fair, chuse you whither : 
Their Gowns were a Yard too long for their Legs, 
They shew'd like the Rain-bow cut into Rags, 
A Garden of Flowers, or a Navy of Flags, 
When they did all mingle together. 


140 SONGS Compleat, 

Among all these Ladies, I singled out one, 

to prattle of Love and Folly ; 
I found her not Coy, but jovial as Joan, 

or Betty, or Marget, or Molly : 
With honours and Love, and stories of Chances, 
My Spirits did move, and my Blood she advances, 
With Twenty Quadundrums, and Fifty Five Fancies, 
Pd have been at her Tan-tivee. 

We talk'd away time until it grew dark, 

the Place did begin to grow privy ; 
For Gallants began to draw out of the Park, 

to their Horses did gallop Tan-tivee : 
But finding my Courage a little to come, 
I sent my Bay Gelding away by the Groom, 
And proffer'd my Service to wait on her Home, 
/;/ her Coach we went both Tan-tivee. 

I offer'd and proffer'd, but found her strait-lac'd, 

she cry'd I shall never believe ye ; 
This Arm full of Sattin I bravely embrac'd, 

and fain would have been at Tan-tivee : 
Her Lodging was pleasant for scent and for sight, 
She seem'd like an Angel by Candle-light, 
And like a bold Archer, I aim'd at the White, 
Tan-tivee, tan-tivee, tan-tivee. 

With many Denials she yielded at last, 

her Chamber being wondrous privy, 
That I all the Night there might have my repast, 

to run at the Ring Tan-tivee. 
I put off my Cloaths, and I tumbled to Bed, 
She went to her Closet to dress up her Head, 
But I peep'cl in the Key-hole to see what she did, 
Which put me quite beside my Tan-tivee. 

She took off her Head-tire, and shew'd her bald Pate, 
Her Cunning did very much grieve me, 

Thought I to my self, if it were not so late, 
I would home to my Lodgings believe me. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 141 

Her Hair being gone, she seem'd like a Hag, 
Her bald-pate did look like an Ostrich's Egg, 
This Lady (thought I) is as right as my Leg, 
She hath been too much at Tan-tivee. 

The more I did peep, the more I did spy, 

Which did unto amazement drive me ; 
She put up her Finger, and out dropt her Eye, 

I pray'd that some Power would relieve me : 
But now my resolves was never to trouble her, 
Or venture my Carcase with such a blind Hobler, 
She look'd with One Eye, just like Hewson the Cobler, 
When he us'd to Ride Tan-tivee. 

I peep'd, and was still more perplexed therewith, 

Thought I, tho't be Midnight I'll leave thee ; 
She fetch'd a yawn, and out fell her Teeth, 
This Quean had intents to deceive me : 
She drew out her Handkerchief as I suppose, 
To wipe her high Fore-head, off dropt her Nose, 
Which made me run quickly and put on my Hose, 
The Devil is in my Tan-tivee. 

She washt all the Paint from her Visage, and then 

She look'd just (if you will believe me) 
Like a Lancashire Witch of Four score and Ten, 

And as the Devil did drive me : 
I put on my Cloaths, and cry'd Witches and Whores, 
I tumbl'd down Stairs, broke open the Doors, 
And down to my Country again to my Boors, 
Next Morning I rid Tan-tivee. 

You North-Co\miry Gallants that live pleasant Lives, 

Let not Curiosity drive ye ; 
To leave the fresh Air, and your own Tenants Wives, 

For Sattin will sadly deceive you : 
For my part I will no more be such a Meacock, 
To deal with the plumes of a Hide-Park Peacock, 
But find out a Russet-coat Wench and a Hay-cock, 
And there I will ride Tan-tivee* 



SONGS Compleat, 

The Beggars DELIGHT. 

COurtiers, Courtiers, think it no harm, 
That silly poor Swains in Love should be ; 
For Love lies hid in Rags all torn, 

As well as Silks and Bravery : 
For the Beggar he loves his Lass as dear, 

As he that hath Thousands, Thousands, Thousands, 
He that hath Thousand Pounds a Year. 

State and Title are pitiful things, 

A lower State more happy doth prove ; 

Lords and Ladies, Princes and Kings, 

With the Beggar hath equal Joys in Love : 

And my pretty brown Cloris upon the Hay, 
Hath always as killing, killing, killing, 

Hath always as killing Charms as they. 

A Lord will purchase a Maiden-head, 

Which perhaps hath been lost some Years before ; 
A Beggar will pawn his Cloak and his Trade, 

Content with Love to lye, and live Poor : 


Pleasant and Diver live. 1 43 

Our eager Embraces in Coal-sheds, 

Are always more pleasing, pleasing, pleasing, 
Than theirs that are dull in downy Beds. 

Our Claris is free from Patches and Paint, 
Complection and Features sweetly agree ; 

Perfections which Ladies often do want, 
Is always intaiFd on our Pedigree : 

Sweet Cloris in her own careless Hair, 
Is always more taking, taking, taking, 

Than Ladies that Towers and Pendants do wear. 

A Dutchess may fail, created for Sport, 
By using of Art, and changing of Things ; 

Tho' she were the Idol and Goddess o'th' Court, 
The Joys and the Pleasure of Don, Prince, or Kings, 

Yet Cloris in her old Russet-Gown, 
She's sound, she's sound, she's sound, 

And free from the Plague and Pox of the Town. 

A Beggar's as boon aud as brisk in the dark, 
As she that is Painted Red and White ; 

And pleases her Mate, tho' not such a Spark, 
As lies by the side of a Lord or Knight : 

And Cloris hath Beauty to Content, 

So long as she's wholsom, wholsom, wholsom, 

She pleases us, we don't repent. 

What tho' all the Day she's attir'd in Rags, 
Yet once a Week she changes her Smock ; 

And she that has Gold and Silver in Bags, 

She can do no more than match a good Cock : 

She's willing and ready to show her Art, 
And still with her Kisses, Kisses, Kisses, 

She'll conquer the Senses and the Heart. 

All the Night long we do hug and embrace, 
The greatest and Rich can do no more ; 

And when to the Swain she joins her Face, 
He thinketh what Joys there's for him in store : 


144 SONGS Compleat, 

By the taste of the Blisses, so happy's he, 

He crys there's no Beggar, Beggar, Beggar, 
Could so blest, or so fortunate be. 

The touch of her Hand encreases his Flame, 
Who conquer'd by Charms a Captive doth lie ; 

And when he but thinks of his true Love's Name, 
He vows for her sake he could freely Die : 

Then she revives him again with a Kiss, 
He cries you undo me, undo me, undo me, 

Had ever poor Soul such Pleasure as this ? 

Then Gallants, ne'er envy the Poor's Delight, 
Tis Pleasure to Love, and a Plague to be Free ; 

Tho' some for our Poverty do us slight, 
There's none alive more happy than we : 

We well are content with what we enjoy, 

And once in a twelvemonth, twelvemonth, twelve 

We are blest with a Girl, or a Boy, 

Content is a thing we strive to possess, 

And better it is than a Golden Mine : 
Since us with the same the Heaven do bless, 

What cause have we for to repine : 
No, we've enough our Hearts to suffice, 

And he that doth murmur, murmur, murmur, 
Will never be happy nor wise. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 

JOAN to the MAY-POLE. 

JOan to the May-pole away let's run, 
The time is swift, and will be gone : 
There go the Lasses away to the Green, 
Where their Beauties may be seen ; 

Nan, Noll, Kate and Moll, 
Brave Lasses have Lads to attend 'em, 

Hodge, Nick, Tom, Dick, 
Brave Country Dancers, who can amend 'em ? 

Did you not see the Lord of the May, 
Walk along in his rich Array ? 
There goes the Lass that is only his, 
See how they meet, and how they Kiss ! 
VOL. iv. L Come 

146 SONGS Compleat, 

Come Will, run Gill, 
Or dost thou list to lose thy Labour ? 

Kit Crowd, scrape aloud, 
Tickle her Tom, with a Pipe and a Tabor. 

Lately I went to a Masque at Court, 
Where I see Dances of ev r ry sort ; 
There they did Dance with Time and Measure, 
But none like Country Dance for Pleasure : 

There they did Dance, just as in France, 
Not like the English lofty manner ; 

And every She must furnished be 
With a feather'd knack, when she sweats, for to fan hen 

But we, when we Dance, and do happen to sweat 
Have a Napkin in hand for to wipe off the wet ; 
And we with our Doxies do jigg it about, 
Not like the Court, which often are out : 

If the Tabor do play, we thump it away, 
And turn, and meet our Lasses to Kiss 'em ; 

Nay, they will be as ready as we, 
That hardly at any time can miss 'ern. 

Yonder comes Dolly over the down, 
And Roger he gives her a fair Green-Gown, 
See how he Hands her up again, 
And how they trip along amain : 

They pass o'er the Grass, 
And at every Stile they are Billing, 

He gives, she receives, 
Being Youthful, Ready, and Willing. 

There is not any that shall out-vie, 
My little pretty Joan and 1 ; 
For I'm sure I can Dance as well, 
As Robin, Jenny, Tom and Nell: 

Last Year we were here, 
When rough Ralph he plsy'd us a Boree, 

And we merrily 
Thump'd it about, and gain'd the Glory. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 1 4 7 

Come, sweet Joan, let us call a New Dance, 
That we before 'em may advance ; 
Let it be what you desire and crave, 
And sure the same sweet Joan shall have : 

She cry'd, and reply'd, 
If to please me thou wilt endeavour, 

Sweet Pig, the Wedding-Jig, 
Then my Dear I'll love thee for ever. 

Sure I will grant thee thy request, 
And learn thee that amongst the rest ; 
For e'er it be long, we'll Married be, 
And then my pretty Joan shall see, 

Fine Toys, sweet Joys, 
And soft Kisses too, out of Measure, 

Sweet Charms in my Arms, 
This will be a Fountain of Pleasure. 

And if we hold on as we begin, 
Joan^ thee and I the Garland shall win ; 
Nay, if thou live till another day, 
I'll make thee Lady of the May, 

Dance about, in and out, 
Turn and Kiss, and then for Greeting ; 

Now Joan, we have done, 
Fare thee well till next merry Meeting. 



SONGS Compleat, 

The Wiltshire WEDDING. 

ALL in a misty Morning, 
cloudy was the Weather, 
I meeting with an old Man, 

was cloathed all in Leather, 
With ne'er a Shirt unto his Back, 

but Wool unto his Skin ; 
With hoiv do you do ? and how do you do 't 
and how do you do agen ? 

The Rustick was a Thresher, 

and on his way he hy'd, 
And with a Leather Bottle, 

fast Buckl'd by his side : 


Pleasant and Diver live. 1 49 

And with a Cap of Woollen, 

which cover'd Cheek and Chin, 
With how do you do ? and how do you do 1 

and how do you do agen. 

I went a little further, 

and there I met a Maid, 
Was going then a Milking, 

a Milking Sir, she said : 
Then I began to Compliment, 

and she began to Sing ; 
With how do you do ? and how do you do f 

a nd how do you do agen. 

This Maid her Name was Dolly, 

cloath'd in a Gown of Gray, 
I being somewhat Jolly, 

perswaded her to stay : 
Then strait I fell to Courting her, 

in hopes her Love to win, 
With how do you do ? and how do you do ? 

and how do you do agen. 

Then having time and leisure, 

I spent a vacant hour, 
Telling of all my Treasure, 

whilst sitting in the Bower : 
With many kind Embraces, 

I stroak'd her double Chin : 
With how do you do ? and how do you do ? 

and how do you do agen. 

I told her I would Marr/d be, 

and she should be my Bride, 
And long we should not tarry, 

with twenty things beside : 
I'll Plow and Sow, and Reap and Mow, 

while thou shalt sit and Spin ; 
With how do you do ? and how do you do ? 

and how do you do agen. 


150 SONGS Compleat, 

Did you not know my Father, 

the Damsel then reply'd, 
His Jerkin was of Leather, 

a Bottle by his side : 
Yes, I did meet him trudging, 

as fast as he could win, 
With how do you do ? and how do you do f 

and how do you do ageti. 

Kind Sir, I have a Mother, 

beside a Father, still, 
Those Friends above all other, 

you must ask their good will : 
For if I be Undutiful 

to them, it is a Sin ; 
With how, &c. 

Now there we left the Milk-pail, 

And to her Mother went, 
And when I was come thither, 

I asked her Consent, 
And doft my Hat, and made a Leg, 

for why she was within ; 
With how, &c. 

My Husband is a Thresher, 

who is her Father dear, 
He'll give with her his Blessing, 

kind Sir, you need not fear ; 
He is of such good Nature, 

that he would never lin, 
With how, &c. 

For by your Courteous Carnage, 

you seem an honest Man, 
You may have her in Marriage, 

my Husband he anon, 
Will bid you very welcome, 

tho' he be poor and thin, 
With how do you do ? and how do you do ? 

And how do you do agen. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 151 

Her Dad cams home full weary, 

alas ! he could not chuse ; 
Her Mother being Merry, 

She told him all the News : 
Then he was mighty Jovial too, 

his Son did soon begin, 
With how do you do 2 and how do you do ? 

and how do you do agen. 

Her Parents being willing, 

all Parties was agreed ; 
Her Portion thirty Shilling, 

they Marry'd were with speed ; 
Then Will the Piper he did play, 

while others Dance and Sing ; 
With how, tec. 

In pleasant Recreation, 

they pass'd away the Night, 
And likewise by relation, 

with her he takes delight, 
To walk abroad on Holy-days, 

to visit Kiff and Kin : 
With how, &c. 

Then lusty Ralph and Robin, 

With many Damsels gay, 
Did ride on Roan and Dobbin, 

to Celebrate the day : 
When being met together, 

their Caps they off did fling, 
With how do you do ? and how do yau do ? 

and how do you do agen. 


SONGS Compleat, 

The Country LASS. 




WHat tho' I am a Country Lass, 
A lofty mind I bear a ; 
I think my self as good as those, 

That Gay Apparel wear a : 
What tho' my Coat be Home-spun Gray, 

My Skin it is as soft a, 
As those that in their Cypress Veils, 
Do carry their Heads aloft a. 

What tho' I keep my Father's Sheep, 
Tis a thin that must be done a, 

A Garland of the choicest Flow'rs, 
Shall shade me from the Sun a ; 


Pleasant and Diver live. 153 

And where I see the feeding Bee, 
When Grass and Flowers spring a, 

Hard by a Chrystal Fountain Stream, 
I sit me down and Sing a. 

My Leather Bottle stufft with Sage, 

My Drink it is but thin a, 
No Wine hath taught my brains to rage, 

Nor tempt my Blood to sin a ; 
My Country Curds, my Wooden Spoon, 

My things are very Fine a, 
And on some Flow'ry Bank at Noon, 

I sit me down and Dine a. 

What tho' my Portion will allow, 

No Bags of shining Gold a, 
As Farmers Daughters now adays, 

Like Swine are Bought and Sold a; 
I'll keep my Naked Body sound, 

And an Honest Soul within a, 
And for a Hundred Thousand Pounds, 

I value it not a Pin a. 

I have no Jewels in my Ears, 

Nor Jems to deck my Neck a; 
Nor Glittering Rings with Stones I wear, 

My Fingers for to Deck a 
But for the Man when e'er it chance, 

That I shall Grace to Wed a, 
I'll keep a Jewel worth them all, 

I mean my Maiden-Head a. 


154 SONGS Compleat, 


^ Vi '^.. -j-- fr~y ^.i 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 155 

WAs ever a Man so vext with a Trull, 
As I poor Anthony, since I was Wed, 
For I never got my Belly full, 

But e're I have supp'd, I must hasten to Bed : 
Else she'd begin to Scold and to Brawl, 
And to call me Puppy, and Cuckold, and all ; 
Yet she with her Cronies must troul it about, 
Whilst I in my Kennel must snore it out. 

I once did go to drink with a Friend, 

But she in a trice did fetch me away, 
We both but Two-pence a-piece did spend, 

Yet proved to me Execution- day. 
For she flew in my Face, and call'd me Fool, 
And comb'd my head with a three-legged Stool ; 
Nay, she furnish'd my Face with so many Scratches, 
That for a whole Month 'twas cover'd with Patches. 

Whatever Money I get in a day, 

To keep her in quiet, I give her at Night ; 
Or else she'll license her Tongue to play, 

For two or three Hours, just like a Sprite, 
Then to the Cupboard Peel garlick must hie, 
To see for some Crusts that long have lain dry, 
So steep 'em in Skim-milk until they are wet, 
And commonly this is the Supper I get. 

And once a Month for fashion's sake, 

She gives me leave to come to her Bed, 
But most of that time I must lie awake, 

Lest she in her Fits should knock me o'th head. 
But as for the Bed I lie on my self; 
You'd think 'twere as soft as an Oaken Shelf : 
For the Tick it is made of Hempen Hurds, 
And yet for all this, I must give her good words. 


..15-6 SONGS Compleat, 

We commonly both do piss in a pan, 

But the Cullender once was set in the place ; 

She then did take it up in her Hand, 

And flounc'd it out on my Stomach and Face. 

I told her then she went beside, 

But she call'd me Rogue, and told me I ly'd. 

And swore it was not up to her Thumb. 

And then threw the pan i'th' middle o'th' Room. 

Then a Maid that was my Sweet-heart before, 

Did come to the House to borrow a Pail ; 
I Kiss'd her but once, and I thought on't no more, 

But she flew in her Face Tooth and Nail. 
But the Wench stood to her and claw'd her about, 
That for a whole Fortnight she never stir'd out ; 
For her Face was so swell'd, and her Eyes were so sore, 
That I never saw Jade so mangl'd before. 

She then did bid me drop in her Eyes, 

A sovereign Water sent her that Day : 
But I had a Liquor I more did prize, 

Made of Henbane and Mercury steep'd in Whey, 
I dropt in and anointed her Face, 
Which brought her into a most dev'lish case ; 
For she tore and ranted, and well she might, 
For after that time she never saw sight. 

I then did get her a Dog and a Bell, 

To lead her about from place to place ; 
And now 'tis Husband I hope ye arc well; 

Before 'twas Cuckold and Rogue to my Face, 
Then blest be that Henbane and Mercury strong, 
That made such a change in my Wife's Tongue ; 
You see 'tis a Med'cine certain and sure, 
For the cure of a Scold, but I'll say no more. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 


The Ballad of the CAPS 

! P 

Wit hath long beholding been, 
^ Unto the Cap to keep it in, 
But now the Wits fly out amain 

In praise to quit the Cap again : 

The Cap that keeps the highest part 

Obtains the place by due desert : 

for any Cap, whatever it be, 

Is still the sign of some degree. 


158 SONGS Compleat, 

The Monmouth Cap, the Sailors Thumb, 
And that wherein the Tradesmen come, 

The Physick Cap, the Cap Divine, 

And that which Crowns the Muses nine, 

The Cap that Fools do Countenance, 
The goodly Cap of Maintenance, 
For any Cap, &c. 

The sickly Cap both plain and wrought, 
The Fudling Cap how ever bought, 

The Worsted, Furr'd, the Velvet, Sattin, 
For which so many pates learn Latin, 

The Cruel Cap, the Fustian Pate, 
The Periwig a Cap of late : 
For any Cap, &c. 

The Souldiers that the Monmouth were, 
On Castle-tops their Ensigns rear ; 

The Sea-man with his Thrumb doth stand 
On higher parts than all the land ; 

The Tradesman's Cap aloft is born, 
By Vantage of a stately horn. 
For any Cap, &c. 

The Physick Cap to dust can bring, 
Without controul the greatest King, 

The Lawyers Cap hath Heavenly might 
To make a crooked action straight ; 

And if you'll line him in the Fist, 
The Cause he'll warrant as he list, 
For any Cap, &c. 

Both East and West, and North and South, 

Where'er the Gospel hath a mouth, 
The Cap Divine doth thither look ; 

'Tis Square like Scholars and their Books : 
The rest are Round, but this is Square, 
To shew their Wits more stable are : 
For any Cap, &c. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 159 

The Jester he a Cap doth wear, 

Whick makes him fellow for a Peer, 

And 'tis no slender piece of Wit 
To act the Fool where great Mensit 

But O, the Cap of London Town, 
I wis, 'tis like a goodly Crown, 
For any Cap, &c. 

The Sickly Cap tho' wrought with Silk, 
Is like Repentance, white as Milk ; 

When Caps drop off at health a pace, 
The Cap doth then your head uncase, 

The sick man's Cap, (if wrought) can tell 
Tho' he be sick, his Cap is well, 
For any Cap, &c. 

The Fudling Cap by Bacchus's might, 
Turns Night to Day, and Day to Night ; 

We know it makes proud Heads to bend, 
The lowly Feet for to ascend ; 

It makes Men richer than before, 
By seeing doubly all their Store, 
For any Cap, &c. 

The Furr'd and Quilted Cap of age, 
Can make a mouldy Proverb sage, 

The Sattin and the Velvet hive 
Into a Bishoprick may thrive ; 

The Triple Cap may raise some hope, 
If fortune serve to be a Pope, 
For any Cap, &c. 

The Periwig, O, this declares 

The rise of flesh, tho' fall of hairs, 
And none but Gransirs can proceed 

So far in sin till they this need, 
Before the King who cover'd are, 
And only to themselves stand bare, 
For any Cap, whatever it be, 
Is still the sign of some degree. 


160 SONGS Compleat, 

The Ballad of the BEARD 

r I ""He Beard thick or thin on the Lip or Chin, 

[ Doth dwell so near the Tongue, 
That her silence in the Beards defence 

May do her Neighbour wrong. 

Now a Beard is a thing that Commands in a King, 

Be his Scepters ne'er so fair : 
Where the Beard bears the sway, the People obey, 

And are subject to a Hair. 

Tis a Princely sight, and a grave delight, 

That adorns both young and old ; 
A well thatcht face is a comely grace, 

And a shelter from the Cold. 

When the piercing North comes blustering forth 

Let a barren Face beware ; 
For a trick it will find, with a Razor of wind, 

To shave the Face that's bare. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 1 6 1 

But there's many a nice and strange device 

That doth the Beard disgrace, 
But he that is in such a foolish sin 

Is a Traitor to his Face. 

Now of the Beards there be such a company, 

And fashions such a throng, 
That it is very hard to handle a Beard ; 

Tho' it be ne'er so long. 

The Roman T, in its bravery, 

Doth first it self disclose, 
But so high it turns, that oft it burns 

With the flames of a Torrid Nose ! 

The Stilletto Beard, oh ! it makes me afeard, 

It is so sharp beneath, 
For he that doth place a Dagger in's Face, 

What wears he in his Sheath ? 

But methinks I do itch to go thro' stitch 

The Needle Beard to amend, 
Which without any wrong, I may call too long, 

For a Man can see no end. 

The Soldiers Beard, doth march in shear'd ; 

In figure like a Spade, 
With which he'll make his enemies quake, 

And think tneir Graves are made. 

The grim Stubble eke on the Judges Cheek 

Shall not my verse despise : 
It is more fit for a Nutmeg, but yet, 

It grates poor Prisoners eyes. 

What doth invest a Bishop's Breast 

But a Milk-white spreading hair? 
Which an Emblem may be of Integrity, 

Which doth inhabit there. 



SONGS Compleat, 

I have also seen on a Woman's Chin 

A hair or two to grow, 
But alas the Face, it is to cold a place ! 

Then look for a Beard below. 

But oh ! let us tarry for the Beard of King Harry 

That grows about the Chin, 
With his bushy pride, and a grove on each side, 

And a Champion ground between. 

Last the Clown doth out rush, with his Beard like a 

Which may be well endur'd ; 
For tho' his Face be in such a case, 

His Land is well manur'd. 

The Tunbridge Doctors. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 163 

YOU Maidens and Wives, 
And young Widows rejoyce, 
Declare your thanksgiving, 

With Heart and with Voice ; 
Since Waters were Waters 

I dare boldly say, 
There ne'er was such cause 
Of a Thanksgiving day. 

For from London-Town 

There's lately come down, 
Four Able Physicians 

That never wore Gown : 
Their Physick is pleasant, 

Their Dose it is large, 
And you may be Cur'd 

Without Danger or Charge. 

No Bolus nor Vomit, 

No Potion nor Pill, 
Which sometimes do Cure, 

But oftner do Kill, 
Your Taste nor your Stomach 

Need ever displease, 
If you'll be advised 

But by one of these. 

For they've a new Drug 

Which is call'd the dose ffjig, 
Which will mend your Complexion, 

And make you look smug, 
A Sovereign Balsom 

Which once well apply'd, 
Tho' griev'd at the Heart 

The Patient ne'er Dy'd. 

In the Morning you need not 

Be robb'd of your rest, 
For in your warm Beds 

Your Physick works best : 

M 2 And 

1 64 SONGS Compleat, 

And tho' in the taking 

Some stirring's requir'd, 
The motion's so pleasant 

You cannot be tir'd. 

For on your Backs you must lie, 

With your Body rais'd high, 
And one of these Doctors 

Must always be by, 
Who still will be ready 

To cover you warm, 
For if you take cold 

All physick doth harm. 

Before they do venture 

To give their direction, 
They always consider 

Their Patients complexion ; 
If she have a moist Palm 

Or a Red Head of Hair, 
She requires more Physick 

Than one man can spare. 

If she have a long Nose, 

The Doctor scarce knows 
How many good handfuls 

Must go to her Dose : 
You Ladies that have 

Such ill symptoms as these, 
In reason and conscience 

Should pay double fees. 

But that we may give 

To these Doctors due praise ; 
Who to all sorts of people 

Their favours conveys : 
On the ugly for pity sake 

Skill shall be shown, 
And as for the handsom, 

They're Cur'd for their own. 


Pleasant and Diverttve. 

On the Silver or Gold 

They never lay hold, 
For what comes so freely 

They scorn should be sold : 
Then joyn with the Doctors, 

And heartily pray, 
Their power of Healing 

May never decay. 


A Ballad on New BETHLEM. 

, __- r> ^ m i -- 


1 66 SONGS Compleat^ 

THis is a Structure fair, 
Royally raised, 
The pious Founders are 
Much to be praised ; 

That in such times of need, 
When Madness doth exceed, 
To build this House of Bread 
Noble New-Bedlam* 

'Tis beautiful and large 

In constitution, 
Deserves a Liberal Charge 
Of contribution, 
If I may reach so high, 
To sing a Prophecy, 
Their Names shall never die 
That built New- Bedlam. 

Methinks the Lawyers may 

Consult together, 
And Contribute, for they 
Send most Men thither ; 
They put 'em to much pain, 
With Words that cramp the Brain, 
Till Bedlam's fill'd with Plain 
tiff and Defendant. 

Quacking Physicians shou'd 

Give Money freely, 
They maculate Mens Blood, 
And make them silly ; 

With Hydragargyrum Pills, 
Their Reasons and their Wills 
They mine, and this fills 
Most part of Bedlam. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 1 6 7 

So good a Work as this 
Cannot want Actors, 
But I'll no more insist 
On Benefactors, 

But hint such as I see 
Hypocondriack be, 
And are in some degree 
Fit for New-Bedlam. 

That Amorous Soul that is - 

In Love a Quaker, 
And doth adore a Miss 
More than his Maker,. 
Decks her in Silk and Furr, 
Then turns Idolater, 
Kneels down and Worships her, 
He's fit for Bedlam. 

The young Man that has got 

A golden Talent ; 
And hath a brain-sick Plot 
To seem a Gallant ; 
That richly is array'd, 
Spends Land, and Shop, and Trade, 
To be a Hector made ; 
Is fit for Bedlam. 

The City-Lad that sings, 

Rhimes, Drolls and Dances, 
And all his business flings 
Away for Fancies ; 

He that lets his Angels fly, 
Till he's not worth one Penny, 
To Study Poetry, 
Is fit for Bedlam. 


1 68 SONGS Compleat, 

Whilst some with Brandy burn 

Their Guts with drinking, 
Philosophers do turn 

Their Heads with thinking ; 
He who is such a one, 
As studies for the Stone, 
Till's Brain and his Money's gone, 
Prepares for Bedlam. 

That Churl who Gold hath won, 

And dares not use it, 
But hath a squandring Son 
Doth Game and lose it : 
His Brain doth greatly err, 
He that with Water clear 
Would fill a Colander, 
Must do't in Bedlam. 

He that with an Estate 
Weds a poor Beauty, 
Who to Disdain and Hate, 
Turns Love and Duty ; 
It doth his Reason daunt 
He has a Bargain on't, 
Whose then the Elephant, 
And's fit for Bedlam. 

I could tell many more; 
(I have enroll'd 'em) 
Sould I declare my store, 
As I have told 'em ; 

With Mortar, Brick and Stone, 
Could they their Building run 
From thence to Islington, 
'Twoiild never hold 'em. 


Pleasant and Diverlive. 


An Ancient SONG #/ Bartholomew- Fair. 

IN Fifty five, may I never Thrive, 
If I tell you any more than is true ; 
To London che came, hearing of the Fame 
Of a Fair they call Bartholomew. 

In Houses of Boards, Men walk upon Cords, 
As easie as Squirrels crack Filberds ; 

But the Cut-purses they do Bite and rub away, 
But those we suppose to be Ill-Birds. 

For a Penny you may zee a fine Puppet-play, 
And for Two-pence a rare piece of Art ; 

And a Penny a Cann, I dare swear a Man, 
May put zix of 'em into a Quart. 

Their Zights are so rich, is able to bewitch 

The Heart of a very fine Man a ; 
Here's Patient Grisel here, and Fair Rosamond there, 

And the History of Susanna. 


1 70 SONGS Compleat, 

At Pye-corner end, mark well my good Friend, 

'Tis a very fine dirty place ; 

Where there's more Arrows and Bows, the Lord above 

Then was handl'd at Chivy-Chase. 

At every Door lies a Hag, or a Whore, 
And in Hosier-Lane, if I a'n't mistaken ; 

Zuch plenty there are of Whores, you'll have a pair, 
To a zingle Gamon of Bacon. 

Then at Smithfield-Bars, betwixt the Ground and the 

There's a place they call Shoemaker-Row ; 
Where that you may buy Shoes every day, 

Or go bare-foot all the Year I tro. 

TWO /00NE. 

FF E fed =^- F D_^_L_KZ C 

Pleasant and Diver tive. 1 7 1 

THere were two Bumpkins lov'd a Lass, 
And striving who should have her ; 
She presum'd of what she had, 
And they of what they gave her : 
Hey ho, hey ho, my Heart's delight, 
Carouse away all Sorrow ; 

Let me Tickle thy Wench twice to Night, to Night, 
She shall be thine to Morrow. 

But we were both of one Consent, 
And something had some Savour ; 

And let a poor Man be content 
With half a Wenches Favour : 
Hey ho, &c. 

But this is still against all Sence, 

Which ever more hath vex'd us ; 
That ev'ry Lobcock hath his Wench, 

And we but one betwixt us. 
Hey ho, &c. 

Good Brother, let us not dismay, 

What hap so e'er betide us ; 
For fear a Third should come this way, 

And pull our Wench beside us : 
Hey ho, &c. 

For Women they are Winning things, 

As mutable as may be ; 
No Bird that ever flew with Wings, 
So subtile is as they be. 

Hey ho, hey ho, my Hearfs delight, 
Carouse away all Sorrow, 

Let me Tickle thy Wench twice to Night, to Night, 
She shall be thine to Morrow. 

SONGS Compleat, 

No matter who shall pledge her first, 

Affections are but blindness ; 
And let the World say what they list, 
We'll take her double Kindness. 
Hey ho, hey ho, my HearCs delight, 
Carouse away all Sorrow ; 

Let me Tickle thy Wench twice to Night, to Night, 
She shall be thine to Morrow. 

For she hath granted both our Sutes, 

When we came first unto her ; 
And he shall Ride in both our Boots, 

That comes the next to Wooe her : 
Hey ho, &c. 


By Mr. BUTLER, Author of HUDIBRAS. 

Pleasant and Diver live. 1 73 

WHAT Creature's that with his short Hairs, 
His little Band, and huge long Ears, 
That this new Faith hath founded ? 
The Saints themselves were never such, 
The Prelates ne'er rul'd half so much, 
O such a Rogue's a Round-head. 

What's he that doth the Bishops hate, 
And counts their Calling Reprobate, 

Cause by the Pope Propounded ; 
And thinks a Zealous Cobler better, 
Than learned Usher in every Letter, 

O such a Rogues a Round-head. 

What's he, that doth High-Treason say, 
As often as his Yea and Nay, 

And wish the King confounded ; 
And dares maintain that Mr. Pirn, 
Is fitter for the Crown than him, 

O such a Rogue's a Round-head. 

What's he, that if he chance to hear 
A little piece of Common-Prayer, 

Doth think his Conscience wounded ; 
Will go five Miles to Preach and Pray, 
And meet a Sister by the way, 

O such a Rogue's a Round-head. 

What's he that met a Holy Sister, 
And in a Hay-cock gently Kiss'd her ? 

O then his Zeal abounded ; 
'Twas underneath a shady Willow, 
Her Bible serv'd her for a Pillow, 

And there he got a Round-head. 


1 74 SONGS Compleat, 

The OXFORD Expedition. 
Tune of, Which no Body can deny. 

A Late Expedition to Oxford was made 
/\ By a Protestant P. and his Brothers o'th' Blade. 
Who from Gloucester in Triumph his Lordship convey'd, 
WJiich no Body can deny, deny ; which no Body can 

Had you seen all his Myrmidons when they came to us, 
Equipp'd in their sturdy grey Coats and high Shoes, 
You'd have sworn not the Goals, but all Hell was broke 

Which no Body, &c. 

In Rank and in File there rode many a Man, 
Some in the Rear March'd, and some in the Van, 
Tho' some had no Hats, yet they had Head-pieces on, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Some had two lusty Legs, but never a Boot, 
And on their Tits mounted, they stood stoutly to't, 
For the name of a Horse, they'd as good gone a Foot, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Tho' Steel was not plenty, yet Armed they come, 
With stout Oaken Plants, and with Crab-tree stick some, 
To Cudgel the Pope and the Bald-pates of Rome, 
Which no Body, &c. 

For in these gay Troops among twenty, scarce one 
Had Holsters or Pistols, Sword, Carbine or Gun, 
A sign they did mean no great Harm should be done, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Here many a Gallant I'll warrant you that 
Had Ribband of Orange and Seaman's Cravat, 
The defects of their Arms, were made up in State, 
Which no Body can deny, &c. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 1 75 

One's Horse wore a Halter among all the rest, 
Nor had the dull Wight half the Sence of his Beast, 
And he of the two, deserv'd the Rope best, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Here M- t and G on their pamper' d Steeds prance, 

Jack B Grace, next Jack Willis advance, 

Who look'd fierce as Switzer, who drub'd him in 

Which no Body, &c. 

In this Cavalcade for the Grace of the Matter, 
Lord L rod first, and the rest follow'd after, 
They gallop'd up Town, and then down to the Water, 
Which no Body, &c. 

The Mayor and his Brethren in courteous fashion, 
Bid him welcome to Town in a fine penn'd Oration, 
And thank'd him for taking such care of the Nation, 
Which no Body, &c. 

His Honour next day in Courtship exceeding, 
Return'd a smart Speech, to shew 'em his Breeding, 
Which when 'tis in Print, 'twill be well worth your 

Which no Body, &c. 

Having taken it thus, to secure the Town, 
The Guards are all set, and the Bridges pull'd down, 
And tho' little Courage, his Conduct was shown, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Next Night an Alarm our Warriors surprise, 
Drums beat, Trumpets sound, and at Midnight all rise, 
To Fight the King's Army, who came in disguise, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Next Morning at Eight, his Lordship did call, 
And ask'd if they'd got any Powder or Ball, 
But they Manfully answer'd, they had none at all, 
Which no Body, &c. 



SONGS Compleat y 

Among the Crowd, two fat Draymen appear, 
To guard Mr. Ensign, a huge nasty Tar, 
Who flourish'd a Blanket for Colours of War, 
Which no Body can deny. 

At foot of the Colours, blith Crendon did go, 
Who play'd a new Tune, which you very well know, 
For his Bag-pipes squeak'd nothing but Lero, Lero, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Ah ! had the dear Joys but come in the nick, 
I fancy they'd show'd 'em a slippery Trick, 
For they'd March'd more nimbly without his Musick, 
Which no Body, &c. 

Since England was England, no People e'er scarce, 
So Pleasantly Burlesqu'd the angry God Mars, 
Or of Affairs Warlike, e'er made such a Farce, 

Which no Body can deny, deny ; which no Body can 

The FRYER and the NUN. 

Pleasant and Diver five. 177 

1 ^LY merry News among the Crews, 
, ) That love to hear of Jests ; 
The oldest Sport that e'er was us'd, 

Yet chiefly in request : 
If any one do carp at thee, 

Or do thee Bawdy call ; 
Say thou do'st write as they delight, 
Of Up-tails all. 

There hath a Question been of late, 

Among the Youthful sort ; 
What Pastime is the pleasantest, 

And what the sweetest Sport ? 
And it hath been adjudged 

As well by great as small, 
That of all Pastimes none is like 

To Up-tails all. 

Batchelors will to this Game, 

And Marry'd Men likewise ; 
Yea, Wives, yea Maids, and Widows, 

Will use it all their Lives : 
And old Men they will have a snatch, 

Altho' their Game's but small ; 
Yet these old Colts will have a Bout 

At Up-tails all. 

If it were Unlawful, 

Then Lawyers were to blame : 
And if it were Ungodly, 

To Priests it were a shame : 
For they no doubt do use it, 

Tho' it a Vice they call ; 
Yet Priests and Lawyers both will play 

At Up-tails all. 
VOL. iv. N 

178 SONGS Compleat, 

It cannot be Unwholsome, 

Physicians do it use ; 
And if that it were Noysome, 

They would it then refuse : 
And if it hurt the Body, 

Then sure their Skill is small ; 
For why the best of these will play, 

At Up-tails all. 

Ladies love the Pastime, 

And do the Pleasure crave, 
And if it were a base thing, 

Then it they would not have : 
But yet the Fairest Women, 

Will soonest for it call ; 
There is no she but that will play, 

At Up-tails all. 

If it were a costly thing, 

Then Beggars could not buy it ; 
And if it were a Loathsom thing, 

Then Genteels would dene it : 
But it is a sweet thing, 

And pleasing unto all ; 
There is not one but that will play 

At Up-tails all. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 



AS I came from Tottingham 
Upon a Market-day, 
There I met with a bonny Lass 

Cloathed all in Gray, 
Her Journey was to London, 

With Butter-milk and Whey. 
To come Down a down, 
To come Down, down a down a. 

Sweet-heart quoth he, 

You're well overtook, 
With that she cast her Head aside, 

And lent to him a Look ; 
Then presently these two 

Both Hands together shook : 
To come, &c. 

And as they rode together, 

A long side by side, 
The Maiden it so chanced, 

Her Garter was unty'd ; 

N 2 


1 80 SONGS Compleat, 

For fear that she should lose it, 

Look here, Sweet-heart, he cr/d, 
Your Garter is down a down, &c. 
Good Sir, quoth she, 

I pray you take the Pain, 
To do so much for me. 

As to take it up again, 
With a good will, quoth he, 

When I come to yonder Plain, 
I will take you down, &c. 
And when they came unto the Place. 

Upon the Grass so green, 
The Maid she held her Legs so wide, 

The Young man slipt between, 
Such tying of a Garter, 

You have but seldom seen. 
To come down, &c. 
Then she rose up again, 

And thank'd him for his pain : 
He took her by the middle small, 

And Kiss'd her once again : 
Her Journey was to London, 

And he from Highgate came, 
To come down, &c. 
Thus Tibb of Tottingham, 

She lost her Maiden-head, 
But yet it is no matter, 

It stood her in small stead, 
For it did often trouble her, 

As she lay in her Bed. 
To come down, &c. 
But when all her Butter-milk 

And her Whey was sold, 
The loss of her Maiden-head, 

It waxed very cold : 
But that which will away, 

Is very hard to hold. 
To come, &c. 


Pleasant and. Divertive. 

You Maids, you Wives, and Widows, 
That now do hear my Song, 

If any young man proffer Kindness, 
Pray take it short, or long ; 

For there is no such Comfort 
As lying with a Man. 

To come Down a down, 

Jo come Down, down a down a. 


A BALLAD of a Good Wife and a Bad. 


SOme Wives are Good, and some are Bad, 
[Reply.] Methinks you touch them now, 
And some will make their Husbands mad, 
[Cho.] And so wilt my Wife too : 

And my Wife, and thy Wife, 
And my Wife so will do. 


1 82 SONGS Compleat, 

Some Women love to breed Discord, 

Methinks, &c. 

And some will have the latter Word, 
[Cho.J And so, &c. 

Some Women will Spin, and some will Sow, 

Methinks, &c. 
And some will to the Tavern go, 

And so, &c. 

Some Women will say, they're sick at Heart, 

Methinks, &c. 
And some will let a rousing Fart, 

And so, &c. 

Some Women will ban, and some will Curse, 

Methinks, &c. 
And some will pick their Husbands Purse, 

And so, &c. 

Some Women will Brawl, and some will Scold, 

Methinks, &c. 
And some will make their Husbands Cuckolds, 

And so, &c. 

Some Women will Drink and some will not, 

Methinks, &c. 
And some will take the other Pot, 

And so, &c. 

Some Women are sick and some are sound, 

Methinks, &c. 
And some will take it on the Ground, 

And so, &c. 

Thus of my Song I'll make an end, 

Methinks, &c. 

Hoping all Women will amend, 
[Cho.] And so will my Wife too : 

And my Wife, and thy Wife, 
And my Wife so will do. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 

A SONG in Praise of 'Chalk. J3yW. Pittis. 


Hile the Citizens prate 

Over Ale of the State, 
And talk of Bank-Bills and Exchequer, 
Let us, who drink Wine, 
Now summon the Nine^ 
In the Praise of what pays for our Liquor : 


184 SONGS Compleat, 

Let other Folks sing, 

Of a Lord, or a King 
Or some Quality Fopling Petition, 

Till Footman comes down, 

With thanks, or a Crown, 
And smiles at the Mortal's Condition. 

We the Lads at the Rose, 

A Patron have chose, 
Who's as void as the best is of Thinking, 

And without Dedication, 

Will assist in his Station, 
And maintain us in Eating and Drinking. 

Boys out with your Chalk, 

And let the Glass walk, 
'Tis a crying Sin not to be grateful, 

While there's Pit of this Coin, 

We will swim all in Wine, 
And reel home to our Beds, with our Pate full. 

Tho' Relation or Friend 

Will not Give us or Lend, 
Wherewithal for to down with the Ready j 

Yet our good Landlord -Bliss, 

Makes acceptance of this, 
And this Boys must Cloath ye, and Feed ye. 

With the White then in hand, 

The Red let's command, 
And keep drinking and scoring brisk Claret^ 

Till the Bar runs on Wheels, 

And Will takes to his Heels, 
And sculks home from the Watch, to his Garret 


Pleasant and Diver live. 185 

Caelia's Rundlet of Brandy. By T. Brown. 



Charming O/^V Arms I flew, 
And there all Night I feasted, 
No God such Transport ever knew, 
Or Mortal ever tasted. 


1 86 SONGS Compleat, 

Lost in the sweet tumultuous Joy, 
And bless'd beyond Expressing, 

How can your Slave, my Fair, said I, 
Reward so great a Blessing ? 

The whole Creation's Wealth survey, 
O'er both the Indies wander, 

Ask what brib'd Senates give away, 
And Fighting Monarchs squander. 

The richest Spoils of Earth and Air, 
The rifled Ocean's Treasure, 

'Tis all too poor a Bribe by far, 
To purchase so much Pleasure. 

She blushing cry'd, my Life, my Dear, 
Since Ceelia thus you Fancy, 

Give her, but 'tis too much, I fear, 
A Rundlet of right Nantzy. 

Cousin TAFFEY. 

Pleasant and Diver live. 1 8 7 

_u_X_ _JS , _JL_ 


k Here was a Man, a Shentleman, 

And hur was porn, where twas twell, 
In truth, hur was a gallant Man, 

As all hur Country Folk can tell : 
Was a great deal of House, was a great deal of Land, 

Taffy, Taffy, Taffy: 

Was Hawk, was Hound at her Command, 
Cousin Taffy, Taffy. 

Hur Mother was porn of Noble Flood, 

And hur was come of a great pig House, 
And every day was wear French Hood, 
Was kill her Capon, Pig, and Coose, 
And every day was make great Pye, Taffy, Taffy, 
In truth it is true, I tell you no Lie, Cousin Taffy. 

And to the Poor hur did bequeath, 

A great deal of Victuals every day ; 
But there was one was call her Death, 

Was fetch this Shentleman away : 
Of House, of Land hur was berefen Taffy, Taffy : 
Now hur was forc'd to twell in Heaven, Cousin Taffy. 


i88 SONGS Compleat, 

Behind hur hur was leaf a Son, 

And hur was pear a gallant Mind ; 
Was kill twey Spaniards with, a Gun, 

Hur was not of a Coward kind : 
At Killberry Camp, a great deal afore, Taffy, Taffy, 
O hur was there, and a Thousand more, Cousin Taffy. 

Bowoyne hur was at Tellenton, 

At Greenwich Park before hur Grace, 
Was shew hur self a gallant Man, 

And not a Coward in the place : 
Was a great deal of Horse, was a great deal of Foak, 

Taffy, Taffy 

Was a great deal of Gun, was ; a great deal of Smoak, 
Cousin Taffy. 

But her was meet with a great Mischance, 

As hur vyas pass a gay Lady by, 
Sir Cupid prick hur with a Lance, 
Was steal behind hur Cowardly, 
With a rousty, fousty, dousty Dart, Taffy, Taffy, 
Was miss hur Skin, was prick her Heart, Cousin Taffy. 

But was not this a great Mischance, 
As by hur Fortune does appear ? 
Sir Cupid prick her with a Lance, 

Was almost Dead, was ferry near : 
Was bid Tom Sexton Toll the Bell, Taffy, Taffy, 
Shudge you if Cupid us'd her well, Cousin Taffy. 

Well a go to, was hold hur a Groat, 

Was petter a gone and kill hur Geese, 
Hur would not be in Cupid's Coat, 

Not for a great deal of Toasted-Cheese, 
For if ever Cupid come in Wales, Taffy, Taffy, 
Hur shall ne'er go to make more Prauls, Cousin Taffy. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 


To find out TOM <?/" BEDLAM. 

TO find my 70; of Bedlam Ten Thousand Years 
I'll Travel, 
Mad Maudlin goes with dirty Toes to save her Shoes 

from Gravel. 
Yet will I sing Bonny Boys, bonny Mad Boys, Bedlam 

Boys are Bonny ; 

They still go bare and live by the Air, and want no 
Drink, nor Money. 

I now repent that ever poor Tom was so disdain'd, 
My Wits are lost since him I crost, which makes me 

go thus Chain'd : 
Yet will I sing, &c. 

My Staff hath Murder'd Gyants, my Bag a long Knife 

To cut Mince-pyes from Children's Thighs, with which 

I feast the Varies : 
Yet I will sing, &c. 

My Horn is made of Thunder, I stole it out of Heav'n, 
The Rain-bow there is this I wear, for which I thence 

was driv'n : 
Yet will I sing, &c. 


1 90 SONGS Compleat, 

I went to Pluto's Kitchin, to beg some Food one 

And there I got Souls piping hot, with which the Spits 

were turning : 
Yet will I sins; Bonny Boys, bonny Maa Boys, Bedlam 

Boys are Bonny ; 
They still go bare and live by the Air, and want no 

Drink, nor Money. 

Then took I up a Cauldron where boyl'd Ten Thou 
sand Harlots, 

'Twas full of Flame, yet I drank the same to the health 
of all such Varlets. 

Yet ivill I, &c. 

A Spirit as hot as Lightning, did in that Journey guide 

The Sun did shake, and the pale Moon quake, as soon 

as e'er they spi'd me : 
Yet will 1, &c. 

And now that I have gotten a Lease, than Dooms-day 

To live on Earth with some in Mirth, ten Whales shall 

feed my Hunger : 
Yet will I, &c. 

No Gipsie, Slut, or Doxy, shall win my mad Tom from 

We'll weep all Night, and with Stars fight, the Fray 

will well become me : 
Yet will /, &c. 

And when that I have beaten the Man i'th' Moon to 

His Dog I'll take, and him I'll make as could no 

Damon louder : 
Yet will /, &c. 

A Health to Tom of Bedlam, go fill the Seas in Barrels, 
I'll drink it all, well Brew'd with Gall, and Maudling- 

Drunk, I'll Quarrel : 
Yet will 7, &c. John 

Pleasant and Diver five. 191 



192 SONGS Compleat, 

TF't please you for to hear, 
And listen a while what I shall tell ; 
I think I must draw near, 

Or else you won't hear me well : 
There was a Maid the other Day, 
Which in her Master's Chamber lay ; 
As Maidens they must not refuse, 
In Yeomens Houses thus they use 
In a Truckle-bed to lye, 
Or another standing by : 
Her Master and her Dame, 
Said she shou'd do the same. 

This Maid cou'd neither rest nor Sleep, 
When that she heard the Bed to crack ; 

Her Master Captive busie was, 

Her Dame cry'd out, you hurt my Back : 

Oh Husband you do me wrong, 

You've lain so hard my Breast upon ; 

You are such another Man, 

You'd have me do more than I can : 

Tush Master, then says Joan, 

Pray let my Dame alone ; 

What a devilish Squalling you keep, 

That I can neither rest nor Sleep. 

This was enough to make a Maiden sick 

And full of Pain ; 
She begins to Fling and Kick, 

And swore she'd rent her Smock in twain : 
But you shall hear anon, 
There was a Man his Name was John, 
To whom this Maid she went alone, 
And in this manner made her moan ; 
I prithee John tell me no Lie, 
What ails my Dame to Squeak and Cry ? 
I prithee John tell me the same, 
What is't my Master gives my Dame ? 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 193 

It is a Steel, quoth John, 

My Master gives my Dame at Night : 
Altho' some fault she find, 

I'm sure it is her Heart's Delight : 
And you Joan for your part, 
You love one withal your Heart : 
Yes, marry then quoth Joan, 
Therefore to you i make my moan ; 
If that I may be so bold, 
Where are these things to be sold ? 
At London then said John, 
Next Market day I'll bring thee one. 

What will a good one cost, 

If I shou'd chance to stand in need ? 
Twenty Shillings, says John, 

And for Twenty Shillings you may speed : 
Then Joan she ran unto her Chest, 
And fetch'd him Twenty Shillings just ; 
John, said she, here is your Coin, 
And I pray you have me in your Mind : 
And out of my Love therefore, 
There is for you two Shillings more ; 
And I pray thee honest John Long, 
Buy me one that's Stiff and Strong. 

To Market then he went, 

When he had the Money in his Purse ; 
He domineer'd and vapour'd, 

He was as stout as any Horse : 
Some he spent in Ale and Beer, 
And some he spent upon good Cheer ; 
The rest he brought home again, 
To serve his turn another time : 
Welcome home honest John, 
God a mercy gentle Joan; 
Prithee John let me feel, 
Hast thou brought me home a Steel. 
VOL. iv. o Yes, 

194 SONGS Compleat, 

Yes, marry then quoth John, 

And then he took her by the Hand ; 

He led her into a Room, 

Where they cou'd see neither Sun nor Moon 

Together John the Door did clap, 

He laid the Steel into her Lap : 

With that Joan began to feel, 

Cuts Foot, quoth she, 'tis a dainty Steel : 

I prithee tell me, and do not lye, 

What are the two Things hang thereby? 

They be the two odd Shillings, quoth John, 

That you put last into my Hand : 

If I had known so much before, 

I wou'd have giv'n thee two Shillings more. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 1 9 5 

A Lusty young Smith at his Vice stood a Filing, 
Rub, rub, rub, rub, rub, rub in and out, in and 
out ho ; 

When to him a Buxom young Damsel came smiling, 
And ask'd if to Work at her Forge he wou'd go : 

With a rub, rub, rub, rub, rub, rub in and out, in and 

out ho : 

A match quoth the Smith, so away they went thither, 
Rub, rub, rub, rub, rub, rub in and out, in and out ho ; 
They strip'd to go to't, 'twas hot Work and hot 


She kindl'd a Fire, and soon made him blow ; 
With a Rub, rub, &c. 

Her Husband she said could scarce raise up his Ham 

His strength and his Tools were worn out long ago ; 
If she got her Journey-men, could any blame her, 
Look here quoth our Workman, my Tools are not so : 
With a Rub, rub, &c. 

Red-hot grew his Iron as both did desire, 
And he was too wise not to strike while 'twas so ; 
Quoth she, what I get, I get out of the Fire, 
Then prithee strike home and redouble the blow : 
With a Rub, rub, &c. 

Six times did his Iron by vigorous heating, 
Grow soft in the Forge in a Minute or so ; 
As often 'twas harden'd, still beating and beating, 
But the more it was soften'd it harden'd more slow : 
With a Rub, rub, &c. 

The Smith then wou'd go, quoth the Dame full of 


Oh what wou'd I give, cou'd my Cuckold do so ! 
Good Lad with your Hammer come hither to Morrow, 
But pray can't you use it once more e'er you go : 
With a Rub, rub, c. 

o 2 The 

196 SONGS Compleat, 

The Country WAKE. 

_:_-_ 9-*,- n 

T N our Country, and in your Country, 
J_ Where Rufflers they were a raking 
The rarest Pastime that ever you see, 

Was when Hay-cocks they were a making. 

Timmy and Tom, with Bottle and Bag, 

So merrily they were a quaffing ; 
If you'd but zeen how Joan's Buttocks did wag. 

You'd burst your Heart with Laughing. 

On another Hay-cock was Vulcan the Smith, 
With Dolly that came from the Dairy ; 

She thought that his Back was so full of Pith, 
Which made her so willing to tarry. 

Then rustling Joan came brustling in, 
And said you are vull of your Froliks ; 

If you will not let black Maggy alone, 

Beshre tv she will take you by th' Bald-Pate. 


Pleasant and Diver five. 1 9 7 

Then Satchel-arse Ctss, she went to P 

And they went home to conduct her ; 
And all the way after they did Kiss, 

And all the way homeward they pluckt her. 

Then down in a Dale was tumble-down Dick, 
The Wenches they caught him and held him ; 

Because he could not give 'em the Thing they did lack 
Poor Fellow, they threaten'd to Geld him. 

Then did you not hear of a Country Trick ? 

They say that Tuskirfs no Dastard ; 
For when Country Gillians do play with their Dicks, 

Then London must Father their Bastards. 

Ttie Chorus to be Humour' d by the Hands and Elbows, 
as the Souldier and the Sailor. 

The DEVIL and the COLLIER. 

-- r T ~ n 1 1 ' ~i r m M~i" 

198 SONGS Compleat, 

THE Devil he was so Weather-beat, 
He was forc'd to take to a Tree, 
Because the Tempest was so great, 

his way he could not see : 
Then under an Oak, instead of a Cloak, 

he stood to keep himself dry, 
There as he stood, a Fryer in his Hood 
by chance came walking by. 

The next that came by, was a Collier with his Cart, 

that Coals was used to carry; 
What Tradesman art thou, the Devil then he said, 

and he caus'd him a while to tarry ? 
For why do I think, with thee for to Drink, 

and he call'd for a Glass Claret ; 
I know thee so well, that thou comest from Hell, 

and I think thou hast stole my Chariot. 

The next that came by, was a Chimny-sweeper, 

with his Brooms, his Poles and Shackles ; 
What Tradesman art thou, the Devil then he said, 

thou usest all these Tackles ? 
I prithee gentle Blade, come tell me thy Trade, 

thy Face it is so besmear'd, 

If thou hadst not been so black, with thy Tackles at 
thy Back, 

thou hadst made me damnable afraid. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 199 

The next that came by, was a Tawny-moor, 

as soon as the Devil did him 'spy, 
He leared on his Tawny Skin, 

saying Friend, art any kin to me ? 
For why, thy Skin doth resemble our kin, 

therefore let us walk together, 
And tell me how thou dost allow 

of this Tempestuous Weather. 

The next that came by, was a Gun-powder grinder, 

with Coals and Brimstone Sifted, 
Who for three-quarters of a Year, 

himself he had not Shifted : 
Then up the Devil rose, and he snuft'd up his Nose, 

he could endure no longer, 
Away with this Fume, out of the Room, 

it will neither quench Thirst nor Hunger. 

What Tradesman art thou, the Devil then he said. 

methinks I know thee well ? 
My Trade it is Gun-powder for to make, 

to blow the Devil out of Hell : 
Oh, had I but him here, his Bones I would tear, 

he should neither scratch nor bite 
I'd plague the Devil for all his Evil, 

and make him leave wandring by Night. 

The IRISH Hallaloo. 


SONGS Compleat, 

INstead of our Buildings and Castles so brave, 
Into our Caverns we're forc'd for to crave, 
When we are driven along the Bogs, 
We root up Putatoes like the wild Hogs. 

Instead of their Beavers, and Castors so good, 
In their picked Caps they are forc'd to the Wood : 
And when they are driven along the Passes, 
They've nothing but Tatters to hang on their Arses. 

Instead of their Mantles lined with Plush : 
They're forc'd to seek Rags off every Bush ; 
When they have gotten a very good Cantle, 
They go to the Botchers and there make a Mantle. 

Instead of their Boots with Tops so large, 
I'm sure they are rid of that same Charge ; 
Now they have gotten a thin pair of Brogues, 
And into the Woods among the wild Rogues. 

Their Mutton and Beef they are all wild Runts, 
Their Wives are all nasty, and so are their 
But I'll keep my Fiddle -stick out of their Cases, 
They stink like Privies, a Pox of their A ses. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 


The LADY'S New- Years-Gift 

The Tune caWd Newington Butts. 


WOmen are wanton, yet cunningly Coy ; 
Lascivious, yet Crafty, to make us obey : 
When once they have Noos'd us, triumphant they ride, 
And trample down Man, that was made for their Guide. 
Cho. But let them remember their Grannum Eve's Fate^ 
Lest thty smart for their Folly, repenting too late. 



SONGS Compleat, 

This Creature was made a Help-meet for the Man, 

And so he approv'd her, deny it who can ; 
But surely poor Adam was soundly asleep, 
Whilst out of his Side this dear Blessing did creep. 
Cho. But let them remember, &c. 

Old Painters did from them resembling the Snail, 
Their House on their Backs was, and in it their Tail, 
Implying that Modesty kept something in, 
Tho' now they'll expose all from Tail up to Chin. 
Cho. But let them remember their Grannum Eve's Fatf, 
Lest they smart for their Folly, repenting too late. 

On a Campaign MISS. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 203 

WHat if Betty grows old, 
and her Features decay ; 
She's Young while she Drinks, 
'tis the Grape makes her gay : 

See how her Eyes shine, 

they sparkle with Drink, 
Such a Lustre has Wine, 

they never can sink, 
Such a Lustre has Wine they never can sink. 

Let the Fops doat on Faces, 

her Soul's my delight, 
She can't want for Graces, 

Who Tipples all Night. 

Long Marches o'er Furrows, 

no place can her find, 
In spite of Camp sorrows, 

poor Betty will be kind. 

Boy fill up our Glasses, 

not a Wrinkle will stand, 
They're Fools who use Washes, 

when Clarefs at hand. 

2O4 SONGS Compleat, 

A Scotch SONG. 
Set by Seignior BAPTIST. 

,-r P 

:fbfctt: 52SEEJ 

i_!_f pe_.i_i 1 _p. 

-* id 


Pleasant and Diver live. 205 

THE Weather's too bleak now to gang out of 

And faith by the Chimny Ize pass the long Hours ; 
And gin that my Dear wilt now stay with me there, 
It may for blest Jockey Freeze on the whole Year : 

My bonny blith Jenny, then never let's part, 
No Cold here I fear, but that of thy Heart ; 
This Weather together weze dally and play, 
Enjoying and toying, as if it were May. 

In Summer 'tis sweet to trip o'er the Land, 

And in the green Meadows to walk hand in hand ; 

When every Loon 

Of his Lass begs a Boon, 
Or on the soft Grass gives her a Green-Gown ; 

Our Leisure, and Pleasure 

Shall now be as great, 

Weze Tattle, and Prattle, 

And Blessing reap ; 

And when I my Jenny fast by me do hold, 
She'll say it is rather too warm than too cold. 



SONGS Compleat, 

7 he Sound Country LASS. 


THese London Wenches are so stout, 
They care not what they do ; 
They will not let you have a Bout, 
Without a Crown or two. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 


They double their Chaps, and Curl their Locks, 

Their Breaths perfume they do ; 
Their Tails are pepper'd with the Pox, 

And that you're welcome to. 

But give me the Buxom Country Lass, 

Hot piping from the Cow ; 
That will take a touch upon the Grass, 

Ay, marry, and thank you too. 

Her Colour's as fresh as a Rose in June, 

Her Temper as kind as a Dove ; 
She'll please the Swain with a wholesome Tune, 

And freely give her Love. 

CUCKOLDS Creation. 


2o8 SONGS Compleat, 

WHAT'S a Cuckold, learn of me, 
Few can tell his Pedigree, 
Or his subtile Nature Conster, 
Born a Man, yet dies a Monster. 

Yet great Antiquarians say 
They spring from old Methuselah, 
Who after Noah's Flood was found 
To have his Crest with Branches crown'd. 

But in Eden's happy shade, 
Such a Creature ne'er was made ; 
Then to cut off all mistaking, 
Cuckolds are of Woman's making. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 



"NT Othing than C/<?<? e'er I knew 
[^ By Nature more befriended; 
Calicos less Beautiful, 'tis true, 
But by more Hearts attended. 

No Nymph alive with so much Art, 
Receives her Shepherd's firing ; 

Nor does such Cordial drops impart 
To Love, when just Expiring. 

Why thus, ye Gods, who cause our smart, 
Do you Love's Gifts dissever ? 

Or why those happy Talents part, 
Which shou'd be join'd for ever? 

For once perform an Act for Grace, 
Implor'd with such devotion ; 

And give my Ccdia Cloe's Face, 
Or Cloe C&lids Motion. 

VOL. rv. 



SONGS Compleat, 

Dunmore KATE. 

THere lately was a Maiden Fair, 
With ruddy Cheeks and Nut-brown hair, 
Who up to Town did trudge, Sir ; 
This pretty Maid, whose Name was Kate, 
Met here a hard unlucky Fate, 
As you anon shall judge, Sir. 

A little e'er it did grow Dark, 

She needs must walk into the Park, 

The Gentry for to see, Sir ; 
Where soon she met a Footman gay, 
That stop'd her short, and made her stay, 

To sit down under Tree, Sir. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 2 r r 

This Footman swore he was a Lord, 
Which soon made Katy to accord, 

And grant him his full Will, Sir ; 
She Kiss'd his Lordship o'er and o'er, 
And open'd all her Country store, 

And let him take his fill, Sir. 

But when she heard one call out John, 
Up rose her Spark, and strait was gone 

To Trot before the Chair, Sir ; 
Which made this Damsel all alone 
To sigh and sob, and make great moan, 

And shed full many a Tear, Sir. 

Quoth she, if these be London Tricks, 
God send me down amongst my Dicks, 

That live on Dunsmore Heath, Sir; 
If ever I come here again, 
Or e'er believe one Man in Ten, 

May the De'll come stop my Breath, Sir. 


A SONG, Set by Mr. Leveridge. 

P 2 


SONGS Compleat, 

WHEN Sawney fust did Wooe me, he did at 
distance stand, 

Advancing to undoe me, he gently took my Hand ; 
He gently rais'd it higher, with pish and much ado, 
His Lips still creeping nigher, at last he Kiss'd it too. 

Advancing more to try me, with Love's inchanting 

He drew himself more nigh me, and gently touch'd 

my Face ; 

He set it all on Fire, with pish and much ado, 
His Lips approaching nigher, at last he Kiss'd me too. 

Compleatly to undo me, he clasp'd me in his Arms, 
As tho' he wou'd go through me, and search out all 

my Charms ; 
As though he wou'd go through me, with Oh, and 

much ado, 
As sure as e'er he knew me, at last he did it too. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 213 

Mr. Dogget's SONG. 

T 'LL sing you a Song of my Mistriss that's pretty, 
J_ A Lady so frolick and gay ; 
It tickles my Fancy to tune her sweet Ditty, 
For Love was all her Play. 

She's witty and pretty, and tunes like a Fiddle, 

A Lady so froiick and gay ; 
She begins at both Ends, and ends in the Middle, 

For Love was all her Play. 

She hugs and she Kisses without a Word speaking, 

A Lady so frolick and gay ; 
She falls on her Back without flinching and squeaking, 

For Love was all her Play. 

She's laden with Graces of Virtue and Honour, 

A Lady so frolick and gay ; 
'Twixt a fair pair of Sheets with warm Love upon her, 

For Love was all her Play. 



SONGS Compleat, 

The World drown d in a GLASS. 

Pleasant and Diver live. 215 

WHAT need we take care for Platoniccd Rules, 
Or the Precepts of Aristotle; 
Those that think to find Learning in Books are but 


True Philosophy lies in the Bottle : 
And the Mind that's confin'd to the Modes of the 


Ne'er arrives to the height of a Pottle : 
Let the Sages of our Ages keep a talking of our walk 

Demurely, whilst we that are wiser 
Do abhor all that's Moral in Cato and Plato, 

And Seneca talks like a Sizer : 
Then let full Bowls, full Bottles and Bowls be hurtd, 

That our Jollity may be compleater ; , 
For Man, tho* he be but a very little World, 
Must be Drowrid as well as the greater. 

We will drink till our Cheeks are as Star'd as the Skies, 

Let the pale colour'd Student flout us ; 
Till our Noses like Comets, set Fire on our Eyes, 

And we bear the Horizon about us : 
And if all make us fall, then our Heels shall divine ; 

What the Stars are a doing without us : 
Let Lilly go tell ye of Thunders and Wonders, 

And Astrologers all divine 
Let Booker be a looker in our Natures and Features, 

He'll find nothing but Claret in mine. 
Then let full Bowls, &c. 


2 1 6 

SONGS Compleat, 
My THING is my Own. 



_^___. . "^ - . . ^ ... r f" P J . 


I A tender young Maid have been courted by many, 
Of all sorts and Trades as ever was any : 
A spruce Haberdasher first spake me fair, 
But I would have nothing to do with Small ware. 
My Thing is my Own, and Pll keep it so still, 
Yet other young Lasses may do what they will. 


Pleasant and Divertwe. 2 1 7 

A sweet scented Courtier did give me a Kiss, 
And promts' d me Mountains if I would be his, 
But I'll not believe him, for it is too true, 
Some Courtiers do promise much more than they do. 
My thing is my own, &c. 

A fine Man of Law did come out of the Strand, 
To plead his own Cause with his Fee in his Hand; 
He made a brave Motion but that would not do, 
For I did dismiss him, and Nonsuit him too. 
My thing is my own, &c. 

Next came a young Fellow, a notable Spark, 
(With Green Bag and Inkhorn, a Justices Clark) 
He pulPd out his Warrant to make all appear, 
But I sent him away with a Flea in his Ear. 
My thing is my own, &c. 

A Master of Musick came with an intent, 
To give me a Lesson on my Instrument, 
I thank'd him for nothing, but bid him be gone, 
For my little Fiddle should not be plaid on. 
My thing is my own, &c. 

An Usurer came with abundance of Cash, 
But I had no mind to come under his Lash, 
He profer'd me Jewels, and great store of Gold, 
But I would not Mortgage my little Free-hold. 
My thing is my own, &c. 

A blunt Lieutenant surpriz'd my Placket, 
And fiercely began to rifle and sack it, 
I mustered my Spirits up and became bold, 
And forc'd my Lieutenant to quit his strong hold. 
My thing is my own, &c . 

A Crafty young Bumpkin that was very rich, 
And us'd with his Bargains to go thro' stitch, 
Did tender a Sum, but it would not avail, 
That I should admit him my Tenant in tayl. 
My thing is my own, &c. 

2 1 8 SONGS Compleat, 

A fine dapper Taylor, with a Yard in his Hand, 
Did prefer his Service to be at Coirmand, 
He talk'd of a slit I had above Knee, 
But I'll have no Taylors to stitch it for me. 
My thing is my own, &c. 

A Gentleman that did talk much of his Grounds, 
His Horses, his Setting-Dogs, and his Grey-hounds, 
Put in for a Course, and us'd all his Art, 
But he mist of the Sport, for Puss would not start, 
My thing is my own, &c. 

A pretty young Squire new come to the Town, 
To empty his Pockets, and so to go down, 
Did prefer a kindness, but I would have none, 
The same that he us'd to his Mother's Maid Joan. 
My thing is my own, &c. 

Now here I could reckon a hundred and more, 
Besides all the Gamesters recited before, 
That made their addresses in hopes of a snap 
But as young as I was I understood Trap, 
My thing is my own, and /'// keep it so still, 
Until 2 be Marry ed, say Men what they will. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 


The Gardeners SONG : Words by Mr. 
Samuel Wilde. 

IN the World can ever a Trade be found, 
Like Gardiners, which replenish the Ground ; 
And makes the Earth by Providence's Hand, 
Yield great fruition unto the Land ? 
To Mortals we render plenty 
Of Dishes fine and dainty, 
As Fruit and Sallads, 
To pleasure the Palates 

Of each Man, 

Which is a Lesson to teach Man 
How we Gard'ners gain the Praise. 


220 SONGS Compleat, 

Before that Adam in Paradise he 
Had tasted of the forbidden Tree ; 
It was unlawful for any to Kill, 
Or the Blood of living Creatures to spill : 
The Fruit and the Herbs were ordained 
Whereby they should be sustained, 

Without any Strangling, 

Or Killing and Mangling 
Each Creature ; 

Can any Maxim be greater, 

For the Gardiners chiefest Praise ? 

The Metropolitan Gardiners Trade, 
While Earth continues, can never Fade ; 
For from the Ground we raise up a store, 
To pleasure the Rich, and nourish the Poor : 
Our Trade is the World's Physician, 
To suit each Patient's Condition ; 

For whatever ceases, 

We heal most Diseases 
Of all Men, 

That happens, or ever befal Men : 

Thus we Gardiners gain the Praise. 

The skilful Doctors might pick their Nails, 
If ever the Trade of the Gardiners fails ; 
For by our Herbs, the rarest Compounds 
Are made to cleanse, and to heal the Wounds 
That incident happens to any, 
And is well known unto many, 

That have been pained, 

And sorely complained 
Of Sorrow, 

Yet have found Ease on the Morrow : 

Thus we Gardiners gain the Praise. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 221 

The Second PART. 

T N the Gardiners Paradise sweetly grows, 
| Carnations, Pinks, and the Damask Rose ; 
With hundreds of Flowers, whose fragrant Scent 
Enjoyns in one for to yield Content : 
Where Mortals may ravish their Senses, 
With Odours and sweet Influences 

That comes from the Flowers, 

Which favouring Showers 
Sets Springing, 

And pretty Birds are singing, 

Pleasant Notes in the Gardiners Praise, 

All sorts of Apples, with Pears and Mulberries, 
Nuts, Grapes and Pippins, with black and red 

Cherries ; 

Rare Peaches, Plumbs, Apricocks and Quinces, 
To Pleasure the Eye and the Pallate of Princes : 
Can any possess such a Treasure, 
And not be enjoyed with Pleasure ; 

Where Currants and Gooseberries, 

Rasberries and Strawberries 
Invites you, 

Then taste of the Fruit that Delights you, 

And you'll render the Gardiners Praise. 

What Flesh is fitting for Man to Eat, 
Until our Herbs do savour the Meat ? 
To Roast or Boil'd, they answer both, 
As Sawce and Sallads, and Herbs for Broth, 
Our fragrant Garden presents you 
Each several Kinds to content you ; 

Baum, Thime, Winter-Savory, 

Mint, Sage, and Rosemary, 
Whose Sweetness 

Orders the Food with Compleatn ess : 

This aspires the Gardiners Praise. 


222 SONGS Compleat, 

What Plants and Roots, and various things, 
To pleasure the World in the Garden Springs ; 
The Artichoak, Cabbage and Collirlower, 
And Coleworts, our Garden affords a power : 
With Parsnips, and Carrots, and Onions, 
Young Cucumbers, Beets and Muskmelons j 
And all things to eat 
With those kinds of Meat 

That's Ordained, 
Or in the World is contained : 
Thus we Gardiners gain the Praise. 

Sir William Butler s Bald Colt. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 223 

WE11 I'll say that for Sir William Builds Bald 

He's as good as any's in the Town a; 
Nay, more than that, Sir William Butler's Bald Colt 
Has kick'd many a Man down a. 

Toll, toll, &c. 
My Gaffer Hunt ran after Sir William Butler's Bald 


Crying out, Ho, Ball, Ho stand a; 
Why, that was as much as to say, as if Sir William 

Butler's Bald Colt, 
Was at my Gaffer Hunt's Command a. 

Toll, toll, &c. 
Sir William Butler's Bald Colt clapt his Ears in his 


And ran most lamentable ; 
But for my Gaffer Hunt to catch Sir William Butler's 

Bald Colt, 
G z s he was not able. 

Toll, toll, &c. 
My Gaffer Hunt follow'd Sir William Butler's bald 


As far as Ensham Church a ; 
And if my Gaffer Hunt had caught Sir William Butler's 

bald Colt, 
He had claw'd his Arse with Birch a. 

Toll, toll, &c. 
Or if he had'nt claw'd his Arse with Birch, 

He had firk'd his Cods with Holly ; 
But for my Gaffer Hunt to set his Wit to Sir William 

Butler's bald Colt, 
G z s, 'twas but a Folly. 

Toll, toll, &c. 
At last Sir William Butler's bald Colt 

Jump'd into another Man's Ground a ; 
And there my Gaffer Hunt he caught Sir William 

Butler's bald Colt, 
And put him into the Pound a. 
Toll, toll, &c. 



SONGS Compleat, 

EN FIELD Common, 

i I tU 

ON Enfield Common, I met a Woman, 
A bringing North-Hall Water to the Town ; 
Said I fair Maiden, you're heavy laden, 

I'll light and give you ease in a Green Gown : 
Says she, 'tis good Sir, to stir the Blood, Sir, 

For the Green-sickness, Friend, will make me like it ; 
Then in a Minute I left my Gennett, 

And went aside with her into a Thicket : 
Then with her leave there, a Dose I gave her, 

She straight confess'd her Sickness I did nick it. 

I went to leave her, but this did grieve her, 
For panting on the Grass she did complain ; 

Saying Physician, my Sick Condition, 
I fear will suddenly return again ; 


Pleasant and Diver live. 225 

If you deny me, and don't supply me 

With many Potions of your sweetest Pleasure : 

Then prithee Gallant improve thy Talent, 
Since we have Opportunity and Leisure ; 

With such like Greeting, my pretty Sweeting, 
She seem'd to press upon me without measure. 

'Twas Summer Weather, we sat together, 

And chatted all the pleasant Afternoon ; 
No one was near us, to over-hear us, 

At length I said I'd put my Pipes in Tune : 
To give a Glister, with that I kiss'd her, 

She cry'd another Fit do's round me hover ; 
With the Green Rushes I'll veil my Blushes, 

For in my Cheeks I know you may discover 
What's my desire, Love never Tire, 

For Oh ! I long, I long, to be a Mother. 

With that I told her, that I wou'd hold her, 

A Guinea to a Groat it should be so ; 
In Nine Months after, a Son or Daughter, 

Will be your lucky Lot, Dear Love I know : 
Quoth she, you Vapour, and draw your Rapier, 

But yet methinks too soon you seem to tire ; 
I'll lay a Shilling, if you are willing, 

That Nine Months hence I have not my desire ; 
Except you'll venture, once more to enter, 

Alas ! the Name of Mother I admire. 

Because I'd ease her, and fully please her, 

I took a Lodging for my Enfield Lass ; 
Who was a Beauty, and knew her Duty, 

The Night we did in youthful pleasures pass, 
With melting Blisses, and charming Kisses, 

On downy Beds secure from Wind and Weather 
And in the Morning, by Day's adorning, 

We rose and drank a Glass of Wine together : 
With Joys I crown'd her, for then I found her, 

To have a Heart far lighter than a Feather. 


226 SONGS Compleat, 

I have cur'd her, likewise assur'd her, 

If e'er it was my luck to come that way ; 
I'd pawn my Honour, to call upon her, 

But for that time I could no longer stay : 
The loving creature, of pure good nature, 

She gave me Twenty Kisses when we parted ; 
Because she never had found such favour, 

In Loves soft Pleasures to be so diverted : 
Then straight I mounted, for why I counted, 

'Twas time I had her company deserted. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 


LET Monarchs Fight for Pow'r and Fame, 
With Noise and Arms Mankind Alarms 
Let daily Fears, their Quiet fright, 
And Fear disturb their Rest at Night : 
Greatness shall ne'er my Soul enthrall, 
Give me Content, and I have all. 

Hear mighty Love, to thee I call, 
Give me Astrea, she's my all, 
That Soft, that Sweet, that charming Fair, 
Fate cannot hurt while \ have her ; 
She's Wealth and Pow'r, and only she, 
Astrea's all the World to me. 

Q 2 


SONGS Compleat, 


Set by Mr. LEVERIDGE. 



_P2. L-U-, 



Pleasant and Diver five. 229 

JOgging on from yonder Green, 
Oh the pleasant sight I've seen ; 
John and Dolley jog, jog, jogging, 
John and Dolley jogging on, 
Themselves Cooling, Johney was fooling, 
Cry'd she will you ne'er have done, 
Jog, Jog, Jog, Jog, jog, jog, jogging on : 
The Sun shines, make Hay, 
Make Hay, make Hay, make Hay good John ; 
Hey ho, hey ho, that I might do so, 
Jog, jog, jog, jog, jogging, 
Jog, jog, jog, jogging on. 

John to ease her of her Pain, 

Ended, and begun again, 

He grew weary, jog, jog, jogging, 

She more Cheary, jogging on, j 

Cry'd my deary, prithee tarry, 

Sure you han't already done ; 

Jog, jog, jog, jog, jog, jog, jogging on; 

The Sun's down, pray stay, 
Pray stay, pray stay, good John, 
Hey ho, that I might do so, 
Jog, jog, jogging on. 


SONGS Compleaty 

A Scotch SONG. 

Arweel bonny Wully Craig, 
Farweel to au thy broken Vows to me ; 
u wast a lovely Lad, 

When on the Grass thou tempted'st me : 
Full oft have I dry'd mine Eyn, 

When by my seln to Milking I have gean ; 
Oft have I gist the Green, 

Where Wully vow'd to be my Swain. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 231 

Sea neat was my conny Lad, 

With new Russet Shoon, and Holland Band ; 
But now he's won his way, 

With Maiden-head, and Leve and au : 
His Locks were sea finely seam'd 

And shone as bright as any in the Land ; 
But now he's won his way, 

With Maided-head, and Leve and au. 

Ise ene thraw away my Skeel, 

And gang nea mere to yonder fatal Brow ; 
Where I was pleas'd sea weel, 

But now I feel meer ner others do : 
He took me by the wulling Hand, 

And vow'd to Hea'n how he wad constant be ; 
When levingly we laid 

Under the shade of the Wullow-tree. 

But ah ! when the Loon had deun, 

He nothing more of Love cou'd shew ; 
But now he's won his way, 

With Maiden-head, and Leve and au : 
My VVeam now begins to fill, 

And seun the bonny Bird will crow : 
Tho' he was won his way, 

With Maiden-head, and Leve and au. 

232 SONGS Compleat, 

A SONG. Set by Mr. Leveridge. 


EArly in the dawning of a Winters morn, 
Brother Zto/fc and I went forth into the Barn ; 
To get our selves a heat, 
By Thrashing of the Wheat, 
From the Stack, from the Stack, from the Stack, the 

Stack : 

The Straws they flew about, 
And the Flails they kept a rout, 
With a Thwack, Thwack, Thwack, Thwack, Thwack. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 233 

Margery came in then with an Earthen Pot, 
Full of Pudding that was piping hot ; 

I caught her by the Neck fast, 

And thank'd her for my Breakfast, 
With a Smack, &c. 

Then up went her Tail, 

And down went the Flail, 
With a Thwack, &c. 

Dick Threshing on, cry'd out fie for shame, 
Must I beat the Bush while you catch the Game ; 

Sow your wild Oats, 

And mind not her wild Notes, 
Of alack, &c. 

Faith I did the Jobb, 

While the Flail bore a bob, 
With a Thwack, drv. 

She shook off the Straws and did nothing ail, 
Swearing there was no defence against a Flail, 

But quietly lay still, 

And bid me fill, fill, fill, 
Her Sack, &c. 

But 'twas all in vain, 

For I had spilt my Grain, 
With a Thwack, dw. 

SONGS Compleat, 


Pleasant and Divertive. 235 

WHat shall I do to shew how much I love her, 
How many Millions of Sighs can suffice ? 
That which wins other Hearts ne'er can move her, 
Those common methods of Love she'll despise : 
I will love more than Man e'er lov'd before me, 

Gaze on her all the Day, and melt all the Night, 
'Till for her own sake at last she'll implore me, 
To Love her less to preserve our delight. 

Since Gods themselves could not ever be Loving, 

Men must have breathing Recruits for new Joys ; 
I wish my Soul could be ever improving, 

Tho' eager Love, more than sorrow destroys. 
In fair Aurelicts Arms, leave me expiring, 

To be Imbalm'd with the sweets of her Breath ; 
To the last moment I'll still be desiring j 

Never had Hero so glorious a Death. 

236 SONGS Compleat, 




Q/^i t 11 



Pleasant and Diver live. 237 

COuld Man his Wish obtain, 
How happy would he be ? 
But Wishes seldom gain, 
And Hopes are but in vain, 

If Fortune disagree : 
Pity ye Pow'rs of Love, 

Our Infelicity, 

Why should the Fates conspire, 
To frustrate my desire, 
Since Love's a gentle Fire, 

That keeps the World alive : 
But me it puts to Pain: 
It makes me wish in vain, in vain, 

Nor promise any hopes to give. 

I love, and still I view, 

Yet dare not tell my Mind ; 
Should I my Flames pursue, 
It might that Bliss undo, 

Which is for her design'd. 
A Blessing far above, 

More lasting, rich and kind ; 
Though Hopes successful prove 
My Heart shall ne'er remove 
From wishing of her Love, 

In Fortune's Triumphs lead : 
And tho' it banish me, 
If she but happy be, 

'Twould please my Ghost when I am dead 

238 SONGS Compleat, 



Pleasant and Diver tive. 239 

WHy does the Morn in Blushes rise, 
Tell me, O God of Days ? 
Clarona, oh ! Claronds Eyes, 

Out-shine the brightest Rays, 
Tis true, 'tis true, she's far more bright, 

Dim taper God be gone, 
And hide thy baffled Beams in Night, 
Let her rule Day alone. 

If Anchorite-like, full twenty Years 

On Earth's cold Bed I'd lain, 
And woo'd the Gods with Fasts and Pray'rs, 

Celestial Crowns to gain : 
Yet after all, could you but love, 

No more would I pursue 
The endless search of Joys above, 

But find out Heav'n in you. 



SONGS Compleat, 

1 ^Arewel the Darling Shades I love, 
| The calm retirement of my Life, 
Where Pleasures boundless as above, 
Free from all Envy, Noise, or Strife : 
No Passions e'er infest the Plains, 
Contentment there immortal reigns ; 
No Passions e'er infest the Plains, &c. 

Were I to chuse what Fate denies, 
Could I command my Frowning Stars, 

Cities should in Confusion lie, 

E'er I'd embrace their restless Cares ; 

Oh ! that I might near gentle Streams, 

Spend my dull Hours in Golden Dreams. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 


A New SONG. The Good Fellow. 

; F 

A LL Hail to the Days that merit more Praise, 
/-\ Than all the rest of the Year ; 
And welcome the Nights that bringeth delights, 

As well to the Poor as the Peer. 
Good Fortune attend each merry Man's Friend, 

That doth but the, best he may ; 
Forgetting old Wrong with Cup or a Song, 

To drive the cold Winter away. 
To drive, &c. 

Let Misery pack with a Whip at his Back, 

Down to the Tartarian Flood ; 
In Lethe profound let Envy be drown'd, 

That pines at another Man's Good : 
VOL. iv. R Let 

242 SONGS Compleat, 

Let Sorrow's Expence come a thousand Years hence, 

All Payments have great delay ; 
And spend the long Nights in honest Delights, 

To drive the cold Winter away. 
To drive, &c. 

The Court in his State sets open his Gate, 

And gives free welcome to most : 
The City likewise, tho' something Precise, 

Yet willingly parts with their Roast : 
But yet by Report from City and Court, 

The Country gets the Day ; 
More Liquor is spent with better Content, 

To drive the cold Winter away. 
To drive, &c. 

The Gentry there, for Cost doth not spare, 

The Yeomanry fast not till Lent ; 
The Farmers and such, think nothing too much, 

So they keep but to pay for their Rent : 
The poorest of all do merrily call, 

When at a fit place they stay, 
P or a Song or a Tale, or a Cup of good Ale, 

To drive the Cold Winter away. 
To drive, &c. 

'Tis ill for a Mind to Envy inclin'd, 

To think of small Injuries now : 
If Wrath be to seek, do not let her thy Cheek, 

Nor yet to Inhabit thy Brow : 
Cross out of thy Books all Malecontent Looks, 

Let Beauty and Youth decay, 
And wholly consert with Mirth and with Sport, 

To drive the cold Winter away. 
To drive, &c. 

Pleasant and Diver five. 



Upon the New INN, with the famoiis Sign- 
Post, called the WHITE- HART, at SKOLE 


ID not you hear 

Of a Wonder last Year, 
That thro' all Norfolk did ring, 
Of an Inn and an Host, 
With a Sign and a ./fo/, 
That might hold (God bless us) the King. 

The Building is great 

And very compleat, 
But cannot be compar'd to the Sign, 

But within Doors I think 

Scarce a drop of good Drink, 
For Bacchus drinks all the best Wine 

R 2 


244 SONGS Compleat, 

But here's the design, 

What's amiss in the Wine 
By Wenches shall be supply'd ; 

There's three on a row 

Stands out for a show, 
To draw in the Gallants that Ride. 

The first of the Three, 

Diana should be, 
But she Cuckolded poor Acteon, 

And his Head she adorns 

With such visible Horns, 
That he's fit for his Hounds for to prey on. 

'Tis unsafe we do find 

To trust Woman-kind, 
Since Homing's a part of their Trade : 

Diana is patch'd 

As a Goddess that's chaste, 
Yet Acteon a Monster she made. 

The next Wench doth stand 

With the Scales in her Hand 
And is ready to come at your beck ; 

A new trick they've found, 

To sell Sack by the Pound, 
But 'twere better they'd sell't by the Peck. 

The last of the three, 

They say Prudence must be, 
With the Serpent and Horn of Plenty ; 

But Plenty and Wit 

So seldom doth hit, 
That they fall not to one in Twenty. 

But above these things all 

Stands a Fellow that's small, 
With a Quadrant discerning the Wind, 

And say's he's a Fool 

That Travels from Skole, 
And leave his good Liquor behind. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 245 

Near the top of the Sign 

Stands there on a Line, 
One is Temperance still pouring out ; 

And Fortitude will 

Drink what Temperance fill, 
And fears not the Stone or the Gout. 

The next to these three, 

You'll an Usurer see, 
With a Prodigal Child in his Mouth : 

'Tis Time (as some say) 

And well so it may, 
For they be devourers both. 

The last that you stare on. 

Is old Father Caron, 
Who's wafting a Wench o'er the Ferry, 

Where Cerbeus does stand, 

Tc watch where they Land, 
And together they go to be Merry. ' 

Now to see such a change, 

Is a thing that is strange, 
That one, who as Stories do tell us ; 

His Money has lent, 

At Fifty per Cent, 
A College should build for good Fellows. 

But under this Work, 

Does a Mystery lurk, 
That shews us the Founder's Design ; 

He has chalk'd out the way, 

For Gallants to stray, 
That their Lands may be his in fine. 

That's first an Ale-Bench, 

Next Hounds, then a Wench, 
With these three to roar and to Revel ; 

Brings the Prodigal's Lands, 

To the Usurer's Hands, 
And his Body and Soul to the Devil. 


246 SONGS Compleat, 

Now if you would know 

After all this ado, 
By what name this Sign shou'd be known ; 

Some call it this, and some that, 

And some I know not what ; 
But 'tis many Signs in one. 

'Tis a sign that who built it, 

Had more Money than Wit, 
And more Wealth than he got or can use ; 

'Tis a sign that all we 

Have less Wit than he, 
That come thither to drink, and may chuse. 


V ~*+^- Tl \^/ 

Pleasant and Diver live. 247 



/r/V I sigh and hourly die, 
But not for a Lip nor a languishing Eye ; 
> fickle and false, and there we agree, 
Oh ! these are the Virtues that Captivate me : 
We neither believe what either can say, 
And neither believing we neither betray. 

1 Tis civil to swear and say things of course, 
We mean not the taking for better for Worse, 
When present we Love, when absent agree, 
I think not of fris, nor Iris of me : 
The Legend of Love, no couple can find, 
So easie to part, and so easily joyn'd. 

248 SONGS Compleat, 


^ f 5 - r *-\-^-0-0 *-$?$- 



Pleasant and Diver tive. 249 

WHen Aurelia first I courted, 
She had Youth and Beauty too ; 
Killing Pleasures when she sported, 
And her Charms were ever New : 
Conqu'ring Time does now deceive her ; 

Which her Glories did uphold : 
All her Arts can ne'er retrieve her, 
Poor Aurelia 's growing old. 

The Airy Spirits which invited, 

Are retir'd, and move no more ; 
And her Eyes are now benighted, 

Which were Comets heretofore : 
Want of these abates her Merits, 

Yet I've Passion for her Name : 
Only kind and Active Spirits 

Kindle, and maintain the Flame. 




T N the Shade upon the Grass, 

J[ Where Nymphs and Shepherds lye ; 

Will was courting of a Lass, 

And -Afc// stood list'ning by : 
Quoth Will, You will not tarry 
Two Months before you Marry, 

Fye, no, fye, no, never tell me so ; 
For a Maid I'll live and dye, 
Quoth Nell, So will not I. 

Long Debates in Hopes and Fears, 

With Kisses mixt between, 
With a Song he charm'd her Ears, 

How Minds have alter'd been : 
Finding his Love grown stronger, 
For fear of staying longer, 
Cry'd, Good now, pray now, If you love me let me go, 

For fear you change my Mind, 

And leave my Heart behind. 

Pleasant and Diver live. 251 


HAppy the Time when free from Love, 
I rang'd the Woods and ev'ry Grove ; 
I minded not the Great One's Fall, 
Nor whom Ambition did enthrall, 
I minded not, &c. 

My only care was how to keep, 

From cruel Wolves my harmless Sheep : 

But tho' from Wolves my Sheep I kept, 
None could my Heart from Love protect. 
But tho\ &c. 

There is not one upon these Plains, 

That Loves like me of all the Swains ; 

But I have learn'd now to my cost, 
That who Love's best must suffer most. 
But I have, &c. 


SONGS Compleat, 





Pleasant and Diver live. 253 

WHilst Europe is alarm'd with Wars 
And Rome foments the Christian Jars 
Whilst Europe is alarm'd with Wars, 
And Rome foments the Christian Jars ; 
Whilst guilty Britain fears her Fate, 
And would repent her Crimes too late, 
And would repent her Crimes too late. 

Here safe in confin'd Retreat, 
I see the Waves about me beat, 

And envy none, and envy none, 

That dare be great, 
Envy none that dare be great. 

A quiet Conscience, and a Friend, 
Help me my happy Hours to spend ; 
Let Celia to my Cell resort, 
She turns my Prison to a Court, 
Instead of Guards by Day and Night, 
Let Celia still be in my Sight, 
And then they need not fear my flight. 

Could sense of Servile fear prevail, 

Or could my Native Honour fail, 

Her sight would all my Doubts controul, 
And give me back my peaceful Soul, 

Such charming Truths her Words contain, 

Or if her Angel Voice refrain, 

Her Eyes can never plead in vain. 



SONGS Compleat, 


Pleasant and Divertive. 

IN Courts, Ambition kills the great, 
In Cities, strive for needless gain ; 
Some do in Battles meet their Fate, 

But I by Love, by Love am slain : 
Phaeton by Thunder, Thunder dy'd, 
Prometheus by the Vulture's Pain ; 
This doom'd for Stealth, and that for Pride, 
But I by Love, by Love am slain. 

Let noisy desperate Fools be brave, 

And build up Trophies to the Skies ; 
My only Wish, ye Gods I have, 

When at ClorindcCs Feet I die : 
When I like some to Greatness born, 

To Fame and Empire rais'd up high ; 
That Fame, that Empire I wou'd scorn, 

And at Clorindds. Feet wou'd die. 



256 SONGS Compleat, 

I Here is one black and sullen Hour, 
Which Fate decreed our Life shoulol know ; 
we should slight Almighty Pow'r, 
Rapt with the Joys we find below : 
Tis past, dear Cynthia ! now let Frowns be gone, 
A long, long Penance I have done ; 
A long, long Penance I have done, 
For Crimes alas ! to me unknown. 

In each soft Hour of silent Night, 

Your Image in my Dreams appears ; 
I grasp the Soul of my Delight, 

Slumber in Joy, but wake in Tears : 
Ah faithless charming Saint ! what will you do ? 
Let me not think I am by you ; 

Let me not think I am by you ! 

Lov'd worse, lov'd worse for being true. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 257 



258 SONGS Compleat, 

&LIA, that I once was blest, 
I s now ^e Torment of my breast 
Since to cure me, 
You bereave me, 
Of the Pleasure I possess : 
Cruel Creature to deceive me, 
First to Love, and then to leave me ; 
Cruel Creature to deceive me, 
First to Love, and then to leave me. 

Had you the Bliss refus'd to grant, 
I then had never known the want ; 

But possessing, 

Once the Blessing, 
Is the cause of my complaint : 
Once possessing is but tasting, 
Tis no Bliss that is not lasting. 

Calia, now is mine no more, 
But I'm hers, and must adore ; 
Nor to leave her, 
Will endeavour, 

Charms that Captiv'd me before : 
No unkindness can dissever, 
Love that's true is Love for ever. 

Pleasant and Diver live. 


A BALLAD of the NOSE. 

merry Lads met at the 
_ To speak in the Praises of the Nose ; 
The Nose that stands in the Middle place, 
Sets out the Beauty of the Face : 
The Nose with which we have begun, 
Will serve to make our Verses run ; 
Invention often barren grows , 
Yet still there's Matter in the Nose. 

s 2 The 

260 SONGS Compleat, 

The Nose his end's so high a Prize, 
That Men prefer't before their Eyes ; 
And no Man takes him for his Friend, 
That boldly takes his Nose by th' end : 
The Nose that like Euripus flows, 
The Sea that did the Wise man pose ; 
Invention often barren grows, 
Yet still there's Matter in the Nose. 

The Nose is of as many kinds, 
As Marriners can reckon Winds ; 
The long, the short, the Nose display'd, 
The great Nose which did fright the Maid : 
The Nose through which the Brother-hood, 
Do parly for their Sisters good. 
Invention often barren grows, 
Yet still there's Matter in the Nose. 

The flat, the sharp, the Roman snout, 
The Hawks Nose circled round about ; 
The Crooked Nose that stands awry, 
The Ruby Nose of Scarlet dye : 
The Brazen Nose without a Face, 
That doth the Learned College grace. 
Invention often barren grows, 
Yet still there's Matter in the Nose. 

The long Nose when the Teeth appear, 
Shews what's a Clock, if Day be clear ; 
The broad Nose stands in Buckler's place, 
And takes the blows from all the Face : 
The Nose being plain without a Ridge, 
Will serve sometimes to make a Bridge. 
Invention often barren grows, 
Yet still there's Matter in the Nose. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 26 1 

The short Nose is the Lover's Bliss, 
Because it hinders not a Kiss ; 
The tooting Nose, O monstrous thing ! 
That's he that did the Bottle bring : 
And he that brought the Bottle hither, 
Will drink (O monstrous !) out of measure. 

Invention often barren grows, 

Yet still there's Matter in the Nose. 

The Fiery Nose in Lanthorn stea,d, 
May light his Master home to Bed ; 
And whosoever this Treasure owes, 
Grows poor in Purse, tho' rich in Nose : 
The Brazen Nose that's o'er the Gate, 
Maintains full many a Latin Pate. 

Invention often barren grows, 

Yd still there's Matter in the Nose. 

If any Nose take this in Snuff, 
And think it is more than enough ; 
We answer them, we did not fear, 
Nor think such Noses had been here : 
But if there be, we need not care, 
A Nose of Wax our Statutes are. 

Invention now is barren grown, 

The Matter's out, the Nose is blown. 

262 SONGS Compleat) 


y ^M^T LS 

STill I'm Wishing, still desiring, 
Still She's giving, I requiring ; 

Yet each Gift I think too small, 
Still the more I am presented, 
Still the less I am contented ; 

Tho' she Vows she has given me all. 

Can Drusilla give no more ? 
Has she Lavish'd all her Store ? 

Must my Hopes to Nothing fall ? 
Oh you know not half your Treasure ; 
Give me more, give over Measure, 

Yet you can never, never give me all. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 


On Doctor G. formerly Master of St. Paul's 

IN Pauls Church-yard in London^ 
There dwells a noble Firker ; 
Take heed you that pass, 
Lest you taste of his Lash, 
For I have found him a Jirker : 
Still doth he cry, take him up, take him up, Sir, 
Untruss with Expedition \ 
O the Birchin Tool, 
Which he winds i'th' School, 
Frights worse than an Inquisition. 

If that you chance to pass there, 
As doth the Man of Blacking; 

He insults like Puttock, 

O'er the Prey of the Buttock, 
With a whipt Arse sends him packing. 
Still doth, &c. 


264 SONGS Compleat, 

For when this well-truss'd Trouncer, 
Into the School doth enter ; 
With his Napkin at his Nose, 
And his Orange stuft with Cloves, 
On any Arse he'll venture. 
Still doth, &c. 

A Frenchman void of English, 
Enquiring for PauTs Steeple ; 
His Pardon amoy 
He counted a Toy, 
For he whipt him before all People. 
Still doth, &c. 

A Welchman once was whipt there, 
Until he did Beshit him ; 
His Cuds-pluter-a-nail, 
Could not prevail, 
For he whipt the Cambro--5/7/#/;/. 
Still doth, &c. 

A Captain of the Train'd-Band, 
Sirnam'd Cornelius Wallis ; 
He whipt him so sore, 
Both behind and before, 
He notcht his Arse with Tallies. 
Still doth, &c. 

For a piece of Beef and Turnip, 
Neglected with a Cabbage, 
He took up the Main Pillion 
Of his bouncing Maid Gillian, 
And sows'd her like a Baggage. 
Still doth, &c. 

A Porter came in rudely, 

And disturb'd the humming Concord ; 
He took up his Frock, 
And paid his Nock, 
And sows'd him with his own Cord, 
Stilt doth he cry, &c. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 



THE Fire of Love in Youthful Blood, 
Like what is kindled in brush Wood, 
But for a Moment burns : 
Yet in that Moment makes a mighty Noise, 

It crackles, and to Vapours turns, 
And soon it self, it self destroys, 
And soon it self, it self destroys. 

But when crept into Aged Veins, 
It slowly burns, and long remains, 

And with a sullen Heat : 
Like Fire in Logs, it glows and warms 'em long, 

And tho' the Flame be not so great, 
Yet is the Heat, the Heat as strong, 
Yet is the Heat the Heat as strong. 


266 SONGS Compleat, 

An Excellent BALLAD, Intituled, The 
Wandering Prince of Troy. 

n._^_it_^_it__^ ^i_^ _^_ _^. T 

WHen 7V^ Town for Ten Years Wars 
Withstood the Greeks in manful wise, 
Then did their Foes increase so fast, 
That to resist none could suffice ; 
Waste lies those Walls that were so good, 
And Corn now grows where Troy Town stood. 

&neas wandring Prince of Troy, 

When he for Land long time had sought, 

At length arrived with great Joy, 

To mighty Carthage Walls was brought, 

Where Dido Queen with sumptuous Feast, 
Did entertain this wandring Guest. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 267 

And as in Hall at Meat they sat, 
The Queen desirous News to hear, 

Of thy unhappy Ten Years Wars 
Declare to me, thou Trojan dear, 

Thy heavy hap and chance so bad, 

That thou poor wandring Prince hast had ? 

And then anon this worthy Knight, 
With words demure as he could well, 

Of his unhappy Ten years Wars 
So true a Tale began to tell ? 

With Words so sweet, and Sighs so deep, 

That oft he made them all to Weep. 

And then a thousand Sighs he fetch'd, 
And every Sigh brought Tears amain, 

That where he sat the Place was wet, 
As it he had seen those Wars again : 

So that the Queen with Truth therefore, 

Said worthy Prince enough, no more. 

The darksome Night apace drew on, 

And twinkling Stars 'i'th' Sky were spread, 

And he his doleful Tale had told, 
As every one lay in his Bed ; 

Where they full sweetly took their rest, 

Save only Didds boiling Breast. 

This silly Woman never slept, 

But in her Chamber all alone, 
As one unhappy always kept, 

Unto the Wall she made her Moan, 
That she should still desire in vain, 
The thing that she could not obtain. 

And thus in Grief she spent the Night, 

Till twinkling Stars from the Skies were fled, 

And Phoebus with his glimmering Beams 
Thro' misty Clouds appeared Red : 

Then Tydings came to her anon, 

That all the Trojan Ships were gone. 


268 SONGS Compleat, 

And then the Queen with Bloody Knife 
Did arm her Heart as hard as Stone, 

Yet somewhat loth to lose her Life, 
In woful case she made her Moan : 

And rolling on her careful Bed, 

With Sighs and Sobs these Words she said : 

O wretched Dido Queen ! quoth she, 

I, see thy End approacheth near, 
For he is gone away from thee, 

Whom thou did'st Love and hold so dear : 
Is he then gone and passed by ? 
O Heart prepare thy self to die. 

Tho* Reason would thou should'st forbear 

To stop thy Hand from Bloody stroak, 
Yet fancy said thou shoud'st not Fear, 
Who fetter'd thee in Cupid's Yoak, 
Come Death, quoth she, and end the Smart, 
And with these Words she pierc'd her Heart. 

When Death had pierc'd the tender Heart, 

Of Dido Carthaginian Queen, 
And Bloody Knife did end the Smart, 

Which she sustained in woful teen : 
^Eneas being Ship'd and gone, 
Whose Flatt'ry caused all her Moam 

Her Funeral most costly made, 
And all things finish'd Mournfully, 

Her Body fine in Mould was laid, 
Where it consumed speedily : 

Her Sisters Tears her Tomb bestrew'd, 

Her subjects Grief her Kindness shew'd. 

Then was sEneas in an Isle 

In Grecia, where he liv'd long space ; 

Whereas her Sister in short time, 
Writ to him to his foul Disgrace : 

In phrase of Letters to her Mind, 

She told him plain he was Unkind. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 269 

False hearted Wretch (quoth she) thou art, 
And treacherously thou hast be tray 'd, 

Unto thy Lure a gentle Heart, 

Which unto thee such Welcome made : 

My Sister dear, and Carthage Joy, 

Whose Folly wrought her dire annoy. 

Yet on her Death-Bed, when she lay, 

She pray'd lor thy Prosperity, 
Beseeching God that every Day 

Might breed thee great Felicity : 
Thus by thy means I lost a Friend, 
Heav'ns send thee an untimely End. 

When he these Lines full fraught with Gall, 
Perused had, and weigh'd them right? 

His lofty Courage then did fall, 
And straight appeared in his sight ? 

Queen Dido's Ghost, both Grim and Pale, 

Which made this valiant Soldier Quail. 

&neas, quoth this grisly Ghost, 

My whole delight while I did live, 
Thee of all Men I Loved most, 

My Fancy and my Will did give : 
For Entertainment I thee gave, 
Unthankfully thou dig'st my Grave. 

Therefore prepare thy fleeting Soul, 

To wander with me in the Air, 
Where deadly Grief shall make it howl, 

Because of me thou took'st no care : 
Delay no time, thy Glass is run, 
Thy Day is past, thy Death is come. 

O stay a while thou lovely Spright, 

Be not so ready to convey ; 
My Soul into Eternal Night, 

Where it shall ne'er behold bright Day, 
O do not frown ; thy angry look, 
Hath made my Breath my Life forsook. 


2 7o SONGS Compleat, 

But wo is me, it is in vain 
And bootless is my dismal Cry, 

Time will not be recall'd again, 
Nor you surcease before I Die, 

let me live to make Amends, 
Unto some of thy dearest Friends. 

But seeing thou obdurate art, 
And will no pity to me show, 

Because from thee I did depart, 
And left unpaid what I did owe ; 

1 must content my self to take, 
What Lot thou wilt with me partake. 

And like one being in a Trance, 
A multitude of ugly Fiends : 

About this woful Prince did dance, 
No help he had of any Friends : 

His Body then they took away, 

And no Man knew his Dying-day. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 



BLith Jockey Young and Gay, 
Is all my Soul's Delight, 
He's all my Talk by Day, 

And all my Dreams by Night : 
Jf from the Lad I be, 
Tis Winter still with me, 
But when he's with me here, 
'Tis Summer all the Year. 

I'm Blith when Jockey comes, 

Sad when he gangs away, 
'Tis Night when Jockey Glooms, 
And if he Smiles, 'tis Day : 
When our Eyes meet, I Pant, 
I Colour, Sigh, or Faint, 
What Lass that would be kind, 
Can better tell her Mind ? 

272 SONGS Compleat, 

0/^;/- EDWARD and JANE SHORE. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 273 

WHY should we boast of Lais and his Knights, 
Knowing such Champions intrapt with Who- 
rish Lights : 

Or why should we speak of Thais Curled Locks, 
Or Rhodope that gave so many Men the Pox. 
Read old Stories, and there you shall find, 
How Jane Shore, Jane Shore she pleas'd King Ed 
ward's mind. 

Jane Shore she was for fair England, Queen Fredrick 
was for France, 

Honi soit qui mal y pense. 

To speak of the Amazons it were too long to tell, 
And likewise of the Thradan Girls, how far they did 

excel ; 

Those with Scythian Lads, engag'd in several Fights, 
And in the brave Venetian Wars, did foil advent'rous 

Knights : 

Messaline and Julia were Vessels wond'rous brittle, 
But Jane Shore, Jane Shore took down K. Edward's 


Jane Shore she was, &c. 

Thalestis of Thormydon, she was a doughty Wight ; 
She Conquer'd Pallas King in the Exercise of Night ; 
Hercules shew the Dragon whose Teeth were all of Brass, 
Yet he himself became a Slave unto the Lydian Lass : 
The Theban Semel lay with Jove, not dreading all his 

But Jane Shore overcame King Edward, altho' he 

had her under. 

Jane Shore she was, &c. 

Hellen of Greece she came of Spartan Blood, 
Agruvtas&d Cressidaihey were brave Whores and good ; 
Queen Clytemnestra bold, slew old Arthur's mighty Son, 
And fair Harcyon pull'd down the Strength of Telamon : 
Those were the Ladies that caus'd the Trojan Sack, 
But Jane Shore, Jane Shore she spoil'd K. Edward's 

Jane Shore she was, &c. 
VOL. iv. T For 

274 SONGS Contpleat, 

For this the Ancient Fathers did great Venus defy, 
Because with her own Father Jove she feared not to lie; 
Hence Cupid came, who afterwards reveng'd his 

loving Mother, 
And made kind Biblis do the like with Carnus her 

own Brother ; 

And afterwards the Goddess kept Adonis for Reserve, 
But Jane Shore, Jane Shore she stretch'd King Ed 
ward's Nerve. 

Jane Shore she was, &c, 

The Colchin Dame Mcedea her Father did betray, 
And taught her Lover Jason how the Vigilant Bull to 


And after, thence conveyed her Father's golden Fleece, 
She with her Lover sail'd away in Argus Ship to Greece : 
But finding Jason False, she burnt his Wife and Court, 
But Jane Shore, Jane Shore she shew'd King Edward 


Jane Shore she was, &c 

Romix of Saxony the Welsh State overthrew, 

Igrceyn of Cornwal, Pendragon did subdue ; 

Queen Quinniver with Arthur fought singly hand to 

In Bed, tho' afterwards she made Horns on his Head 

to stand : 

And to Sir Mordred Pictish Prince a Paramore became, 
But Jane Shore, Jane Shore she made King Edward 


Jane Shore she was, &c. 

Marosia of Italy, see how she stoutly copes, 

With Jesuits, Priests and Cardinals, and tripple 
Crowned Popes ; 

And with King Henry, Rosamond spent many a dally 
ing Hour, 

Till lastly she was Poisoned in Woodstock fatal Bower : 


Pleasant and Divertive. 275 

And Joan of Ark play'd in the Dark with the 

Knights of Languedock, 
But Jane Shore, met King Edward, and gave him 

Knock for Knock. 

Jane Shore she was, &c. 

Pasipha we know play'd feats with the Cretan Bull, 
And Proserpine, tho' so Divine, became black Pluto's 

Trull : 
The Spanish Baud her Strumpets taught to lay their 

Legs astride, [deride : 

But these and all the Curtezans Jane Shore did them 
Pope Joan was right, altho' she did the Papal Scepter 

But Jane Shore, Jane Shore she made King Edward 


Jane Shore she was, &c. 

Agathoclea and sEnathe did govern Egypt's King ; 

The witty Wench of Andover, she was a pretty thing, 

She freely took her Lady's place, and with great 
Edgar Dally'd, 

And with main force she foil'd him quite, altho' he 
often rally 'd : 

For which brave Act, he that her rack'd, gave her his 
Lady's Land, 

But Jane Shore, Jane Shore King Edward did com 

Jane Shore she was, &c. 

Of Phryne and Lanva Historians have related, 
How their Illustrious Beauties, two Generals Cap 
tivated : 
And they that in the Days of Yore kill'd Men and 

Sack'd their Cities, 

In Honour of their Mistresses composed Amorous 

Ditties : [call'd, 

Let Flora gay with Romans play, and be a Goddess 

But Jane Shore, Jane Shore, King Edward she en- 


Jane Shore she was, &c. 

T 2 The 

276 SONGS Compleat, 

The Jolly Tanner's Daughter Harlot of Normandy, 
She only had the happiness to please Duke Robert's 


And Roxolana tho' a Slave, and born a Grecian, 
Could with a Nod, command and rule Grand Seignior 

Solyman : 
And Naples Joan would make them Groan that 

ardently did love her, 
But Jane Shore, Jam Shore King Edward he did 

Shove her. 

Jane Shore she was, &c. 

Aspatia doth of the Persian Brothers boast, 

Though Cynthia}^ in the Lampathean >oy , Jane Shore 
shall rule the roast ; 

Cleopatra lov'd Mark Anthony, and Brownal she did 

But compar'd to our Virago, they were but meerly 

Brave Carpet Knights in Cupid's Fights, their milk- 
white Rapiers drew, 

But Jane Shore, Jane Shore King Edward did subdue, 

Jane Shore she ivas for England, Queen Fredrick was 
for France, 

Honi soit qui mat y pense. 

Hamlet's incestuous Mother, was Gartrude Denmark's 

And Circe that enchanting Witch, the like was scarcely 

seen ; 

Warlike Penthesile was an Amazonian Whore, 
To Hector and young Iroylus, both which did her adore, 
But brave King Edward, who before had gain'd Nine 

Was like a Bond-slave, fetter'd with Jane Shore's all 

conqu'ring Thighs : 
Jane Shore she was for England, Queen Fredrick 

was for France, 

Honi soit qui mal y pense. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 



LET the Soldiers rejoyce, 
_, With a general Voice ; 
And the Senate new Honour decree 'em : 
Who at his Armies head, 
Struck the fell Monster dead ; 
And so boldly, so boldly, and bravely did free 'em. 

To Mass let 'em raise, 

And their Emperors praise, 
A Trophy of the Armies own making, 

To Maximinian too, 

Some Honours are due ; 
Who joyn'd in the brave undertaking. 

With Flowers let 'em strow, 

The way as they go ; 
Their Statutes with Garlands adorning, 

Who from Tyrannous Knight, 

Drove the Mist from their sight ; 
And gave 'em a Glorious Morning. 



SONGS Compleat, 

An Irish SONG. 
Set by Mr. LEVERIDGE. 




ONE Sunday after Mass, Dormet and his Lass, 
To the Green Wood did pass, 
All alone, all alone, all alone, all alone, 
He ask'd for one Pogue, she call'd him a Rogue, 
And struck him with her Brogue, 

Oh hone. Oh hone, Oh hone. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 2 79 

Said he my dear Joy, why will you be Coy, 
Let us Play, let us Toy, 

All alone, all alone, all alone ; 
If I were too Mild, you are so very Wild, 
You will get me with Shild, 

Oh hone. Oh hone, Oh hone. 

He brib'd her with Sloes, and brib'd her with Nuts, 
Then a Thorn prick'd her Foot, 

Halla lu, halla lu, halla lu ; 
Let me pull it out, You'll hurt me, I doubt, 
And make me to. shout, 

Halla lu, halla lu halla lu. 

Set by Mr. Leveridge. 

W ~' ~^^ v v j 


SONGS Compleat, 

WHEN Cupid from his Mother fled, 
He changing his shape, thus made his Escape, 
His Mother thought him Dead ; 
Some did him a kindness, and cur'd him of his Blind 

And thus disguis'd like me, thus disguis'd, 
Thus disguis'd, thus disguis'd like me, 
The little God, the little God, the little God cou'd see. 

He enters into Hearts of Men, and there does spy, 
(Just so do I) That falsehood lurks within ; 
That Sighing and Dying, is Swearing and Lying, 

All this disguis'd like me, 

The little God, the little God could see. 

Pleasant and Diver live. 281 




SMiling Phillis has an Air so engaging, all Men 
love her, 

But her hidden Beauties are Wonders I dare not dis 
cover ; 



SONGS Compleat, 

So bewitching, that in vain I endeavour to forget her, 
Still she brings me back again, and I daily love her 

Kindness springs within her Eyes, and from thence is 

always flowing, 
Ev'ry Minute does surprise with fresh Beauties still a 

Blowing ; 
Were she but as true as fair, never Man had such a 

Treasure, . 
But I die with jealouse Care, in the midst of all my 


Free and easie without Pride, in her Language and 

her Fashion, 
Setting gentle Love aside, she's unmov'd with any 

Passion ; 
When she says I have her Heart, tho' I ought not to 

believe her, 
She so kindly plays her part, I could be deceiv'd for 



Pleasant and Diver live. 

77 TT S l-l- tf-P-^^JHi^ 

all the Youths whose Hearts have bled, by 
cruel Beauties Pride, 
Bring each a Garland on his Head, let none his Sorrows 


But Hand in Hand around me move, 
Singing the saddest Tales of Love : 
And try when your Complaints ye join, 
If all your Wrongs can equal mine. 

The happiest Mortal once was I, my Heart no sorrow 

Pity the pain with which I die, and ask not whence it 


Yet if a tempting Fair you find, 
That's very Lovely, very Kind : 
Tho' bright as Heav'n, whose Stamp she bare, 
Think of my Fate, and shun her Snare. 



SONGS Compleat, 


?^i_-_^_ Ip T^H 1 . ; ^^1 - *- -P^P-^ 

4H cruel bloody Fate, what can'st tho do more ? 
Alas, 'tis now too late Philander to restore : 
y should the Heav'nly Powers perswade, poor 
Mortals to believe, 

That they Guard us here, and reward us there, yet all 
our Joys deceive ? 


Pleasant and Divertive. 


Her Ponyard then she took, and held it in her Hand, 
And with a dying Look, cry'd, thus I Fate Command : 
Philander, ah, my Love I came to meet thy shade 


Ah, I come, she cry'd, with a Wound so wide, 
There need no second Blow. 

In Purple Waves her Blood ran streaming down the 


Unmov'd she saw the Flood, and bless'd her dying hour; 
Philander, ah, Philander still, the bleeding Phillis 

cry'd : 

She Wept a while, and she forc'd a Smile, 
Then clos'd her Eyes and Dy'd. 


286 SONGS Compleat, 

Less Mortals, bless the clearing Light, 

That flows from Cdia's Eyes, 
or never did a Star so bright, 
In Beauty's Heav'n rise : 

And whilst a Crown's uneasy weight, 

And all the mighty Toils of State, 

She softens with her Charms, 

Bless, bless the happy Monarch in her Arms. 

Who lives that does not yield to Love, 

And oft his Joys renew ; 
And yet how few in King's approve, 
What they themselves pursue. 

The Murmuring Crowd themselves afford, 
The pleasures they deny their Lord, 
Tho' Love is Empire's Dower, 
To recompence the Slavery of Power. 

Pleasant and Diver live. 287 


YOung Phaon strove the Bliss to taste, 
But Sappho still deny'd ; 
She struggl'd long, the Youth at last, 

Lay panting by her side. 
Useless he lay, Love would not wait, 

Till they could both agree, 
They idly languish'd in Debate, 
When they should Active be. 

At last, come ruin me, she cry'd, 

And then there fell a Tear : 
I'll in my Breast my Blushes hide, 

Do all that Virgins fear. 
O, that Age cou'd Love's Rights perform, 

We make Old Men obey ; 
They Court us long, Youth does but storm, 

And Plunder and away. 


SONGS Compleat, 

A SONG. Set by Mr. James Hart. 

HAppy is the Country Life, 
Blest with Content, good Health and Ease 
Free from Factions, Noise and Strife, 
We only Plot our selves to please : 
Peace of Mind the Days delight, 
And Love our welcome Dreams at Night. 

Hail green Fields and shady Woods, 

Hail Springs and Streams that still run Pure : 

Nature's uncorrupted Goods, 
Where Vertue only is secure : 

Free from Vice, here free from Care, 

Age is no pain, and Youth no Snare. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 289 

An Unhappy memorable SONG, of the 
Hunting in CHEVY-CHASE, between Earl 

GOD prosper long our Noble King, 
Our Lives and Safeties all, 
A woful Hunting once there did, 
In Chevy-Chase 

To drive the Deer with Hound and Horn, 

Earl Piercy took his way : 
The Child may rue that is unborn, 

The Hunting of that Day : 

The stout Earl of Northumberland, 

A Vow to God did make, 
His Pleasure in the Scottish Woods, 

Three Summers Days to take : 

The chiefest Harts in Chevy-Chace, 

To kill and bear away ; 
The Tydings to Earl Dowglas came, 

In Scotland where he lay ; 
VOL. iv. u Who 

2 go SONGS Compleat, 

Who sent Earl Piercy present Word, 

He would prevent his Sport : 
The English Earl not fearing this, 

Did to the Wood resort, 

With Fifteen Hundred Bow-men bold, 

All chosen Men of Might ; 
Who knew full well in time of need, 

To aim their Shafts aright : 

The gallant Grey-hounds swiftly ran, 

To chace the Fallow Deer ; 
On Munday they began to Hunt, 

When Day-light did appear : 

And long before High-noon they had, 

A Hundred fat Bucks slain ; 
Then having Din'd, the Drover went, 

To rouse them up again : 

The Bow-men must'red on the Hills, 

Well able to endure ; 
Their back-sides all with special care, 

That Day was guarded sure : 

The Hounds ran swiftly thro' the Woods 

The nimble Deer to take ; 
And with their cries the Hills and Dales, 

An Eccho shrill did make : 

Lord Piercy to the Quarry went, 

To view the tender Deer, 
Quoth the Earl Dowglas promised, 

This Day to meet me here : 

If that I thought he would not come, 

No longer would I stay ; 
With that a brave young Gentleman, 

Thus to the Earl did say : 

i Lo 

Pleasant and Diver live. 291 

Lo yonder doth Earl Dowglas come, 

His Men in Armour bright ; 
Full Twenty Hundred Scottish Spears, 

All marching in our Sight : 

All Men of pleasant Tividale, 

Fast by the River Tweed; 
Then cease your Sport, Earl Piercy said, 

And take your Bows with speed : 

And now with me my Country-men, 

Your Courage forth Advance ; 
For never was there Champion yet, 

In Scotland or in France ; 

That ever did on Horse-back come, 

But since my Hap it were ; 
I durst Encounter Man for Man, 

With him to break a Spear : 

Earl Dowglas on a Milk-white Steed, 

Most like a Baron Bold ; 
Rode foremost of the Company, 

Whose Armour shone like Gold : 

Shew me (said he) whose Men you be, 

That Hunt so boldly here ; 
That without my Consent do Chase, 

And kill my Fallow Deer : 

The Man that first did Answer make, 

Was noble Piercy he ; 
Who said we list not to declare, 

Nor shew whose Men we be ; 

Yet we will spend our dearest Blood, 

Thy chiefest Harts to slay ; 
Then Dowglas swore a solemn Oath, 

And thus in Rage did say : 

u 2 E'ei 

292 SONGS Compleat, 

E'er thus I will out-braved be, 

One of us two shall die ; 
I know thee well, an Earl thou art, 

Lord Piercy, so am I. 

But trust me Piercy, pity it were, 

And great offence to kill, 
Any of these our harmless Men, 

For they have done no ill : 

Let thou and I the Battle try, 

And set our Men aside, 
Accurst be he, Lord Piercy said, 

By whom it is deny'd. 

Then step'd a gallant Squire forth, 

Witherington was his Name ; 
Who said I would not have it told, 
To Henry our King for shame : 

That e'er my Captain fought on Foot, 

And I stood looking on ; 
You be two Earls said Witherington, 

And I a 'Squire alone : 

I'll do the best that do I may, 
While I have Power to stand : 

While I have Power to wield my Sword, 
I'll fight with Heart and Hand. 

Our English Archers bent their Bows, 
Their Hearts were good and true ; 

At the first Flight of Arrows sent, 
Full Threescore Scots they slew. 

To drive the Deer with Hound and Horn, 

Earl Dowglas had the Bent : 
A Captain mov'd with mickle Pride, 

The Spears to Shivers sent : 


Pleasant and Diver live. 293 

They clos'd full fast on every side, 

No slackness there was found ; 
And many a gallant Gentleman, 

Lay Gasping on the Ground : 

O Christ ! it was a Grief to see, 

And likewise for to hear, 
The cries of Men lying in their Gore, 

And scatter'd here and there : 

At last these two stout Earls did meet, 

Like Captains of great Might ; 
Like Lions mov'd they laid on load, 

And made a cruel fight ; 

They Fought until they both did Sweat, 

With Swoids of tempered Steel : 
Until the Blood like drops of Rain, 

They trickling down did fall. 

Yield thee, Lord Piercy, Dowglas said, 

In Faith I will thee bring, 
Where thou shalt high advanced be, 

By James our Scotish King : 

Thy Ransom I will freely give, 

And thus Report of thee ; 
Thou art the most Couragious Knight, 

That ever I did see. 

To Dowglas, quoth Earl Piercy then, 

Thy proffer I do scorn ; 
I will not yield to any Scot, 

That ever yet was born. 

With that there came an Arrow keen, 

Out of an English Bow ; 
Which struck Earl Dowglas to the Heart, 

A deep and deadly Blow. 


294 SONGS Compleat, 

Who never spoke more Words than these, 

Fight on my merry Men all ; 
For why, my Life is at an end, 

Lord Piercy sees my fall. 

Then leaving Life, Earl Piercy took, 

The dead Man by the Hand ; 
And said Earl Dowglas for thy Life, 

Would I had lost my Land. 

Oh Christ ! my very Heart doth bleed, 

With sorrow for thy Sake ; 
For sure a more renowned Knight, 

Mischance did never take. 

f A Knight amongst the Scots there was, 

Which saw Earl Dowglas die : 
Who straight in Wrath did vow Revenge 
Upon the Earl Piercy; 

Sir Hugh Montgomery, was he call'd, 
Who with a Spear most bright, 

Well Mounted on a gallant Steed, 
Ran fiercely thro' the Fight : 

And past the English Archers all, 

Without all Dread or Fear ; 
And thro' Earl Piercy 's Body then, 
He thrust his hateful Spear : 

With such a vehement Force and Might, 

He did his Body gore ; 
The Spear ran thro' the other side, 

A large Cloth- Yard and more. 

So thus did both those Nobles die, 
Whose Courage none could stain, 

An English Archer then perceiv'd, 
The Noble Earl was Slain : 


Pleasant and Divertive. 295 

He had a Bow bent in his Hand, 

Made of a trusty Tree : 
An Arrow of a Cloth Yard long, 

Unto the Head drew he : 

Against Sir Hugh Montgomery, 

So right his Shaft he set ; 
The Grey-goose Wing that was thereon, 

In his Hearts Blood was wet. 

This Fight did last from break of Day, 

Till Setting of the Sun ; 
For when they rung the Evening Bell, 

The Battle scarce was done. 

With the Earl Piercy there was slain, 

Sir John of Ogerton, 
Sir Robert Ratdiff, and Sir John, 

Sir James that bold Baron : 

And with Sir George and good Sir James, 

Both Knights of good Account ; 
Good Sir Ralph Rabby there was slain, 

Whose Prowess did surmount : 

For Witherington needs must I wail, 

As one in doleful dumps \ 
For when his Legs were smitten off, 

He Fought upon his Stumps. 

And with Earl Dowglas there was slain, 

Sir Hugh Montgomery ; 
Sir Charles Currel, that from the Field 

One Foot would never fly. 

Sir Charles Murrel of Ratdiff too, 

His Sister's Son was he ; 
Sir David Lamb so well esteem'd, 

Yet saved could not be. 


296 SONGS Compleat, 

And the Lord Markwel in likewise, 

Did with Earl Dowglas dye ; 
Of Twenty Hundred Scottish Spears, 

Scarce Fifty Five did fly. 

Of Fifteen Hundred English Men, 

Went home but Fifty three ; 
The rest were slain in Chevy-Chase, 

Under the Green Wood Tree. 

Next Day did many Widows come, 

Their Husbands to bewail, 
They wash'd their Wounds in brinish Tears, 

But all would not prevail. 

Their Bodies bath'd in Purple Blood, 

They bore with them away ; 
They kiss'd them dead a Thousand Times, 

When they were clad in Clay. 

This News was brought to Edinborough, 
Where Scotland's King did Reign ; 

That brave Earl Douglas suddenly, 
Was with an Arrow Slain. 

heavy News, King James did say, 
Scotland can witness be ; 

1 have not any Captain more, 

Of such Account as he : 

Like Tydings to King Henry came, 

Within as short a space ; 
That Piercy of Northumberland, 

Was slain in Chevy-Chase. 

Now God be with him said our King, 

Sith 'twill no better be ; 
I trust I have within my Realm 

Five Hundred as good as he. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 297 

Yet shall not Scot or Scotland say, 

But I will Vengeance take ; 
And be Revenged on them all, 

For brave Lord Piercfs sake. 

This Vow full well the King perform'd, 

After one Humble-down ; 
In one Day Fifty Knights were Slain, 

With Lords of great Renown. 

And of the rest of small account, 

Did many Hundreds Die, 
Thus ended the Hunting of Chevy-Chase, 

Made by the Earl Piercy. 

God save the King, and bless the Land, 

In Plenty, Joy, and Peace ; 
And grant henceforth that foul Debate, 

Twixt Noble Men may cease. 

A Cure for the Green-Sickness Maid. 

, -g-rg-J'-^PT -jL^L*$-_p_ . 

298 SONGS Compleat, 

AS fair Olinda sitting was, 
Beneath a shady Tree ; 
Much Love I did profess to her, 

And she the like to me : 
But when I kiss'd her lovely Lips, 

And prest her to be kind : 
She cry'd, Oh no, but I remember, 
Womens Words are Wind. 

I hugg'd her till her Breath grew short, 

Then farther did intrude ; 
She scratch'd and struggl'd modestly, 

And told me I was rude : 
I begg'd her pardon Twenty times, 

And some Concern did feign ; 
But like a bold presumptuous Sinner, 

Did the like again. 

At last I did by dalliance raise, 
The pretty Nymph's desire ; 

Our Inclinations equal were, 

And mutual was our fire : 

Then in the height of joy she cry'd, 
Oh ! I'm undone I fear ; 

Oh ! kill me, stick me, stick me, 
Kill me, kill me quite my dear. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 299 

Set by Mr. James Hart. 

TV T OW ev'ry Place fresh Pleasure yields, 
]^^ Let all our Appetites be free ; 
Let us enjoy the Verdant Fields, 
This is Dame Nature's Jubilee. 

With Garlands made of sweetest Flow'rs, 
Our Temples bound, we'll Dance and Sing ; 

So blithly will we pass the Hours, 
As to promote the growing Spring. 

The Sylvian Gods the Nymphs and Fawns } 
Shall to our Chorus join their Voice ; 

The Woods, the Streams, the Hills and Lawns, 
Loudly in Ecchoes shall rejoyce. 


300 SONGS Compleat, 



Pleasant and Diver tive. 


' the Pride of my Passion fair Sylvia betrays, 
_ And frowns at the Love I impart ; 
Tho' kindly her Eyes twist numerous Rays, 

To tye a poor fortunate Heart : 
Yet her Charms are so great, I'll be bold in my Pain, 
His Heart is too tender, too tender, that's struck with 

Still my Heart is so just to my Passionate Eyes, 
It dissolves with Delight while I gaze ; 

And he that loves on, tho' Sylvia denies, 
His Love but his Duty obeys : 

I no more can refrain her Neglects to pursue, 
Than the force, the force 

Of her Beauty can cease to subdue. 

02 SONGS Compleat, 

GO tell Amintor gentle Swain, 
I would not die, nor dare complain ; 
Thy tuneful Voice with Numbers join, 
Thy Voice will more prevail than mine : 
For Souls oppress'd and drown'd with Grief, 
The Gods ordain'd this kind Relief; 
That Musick should in sounds convey, 
What dying Lovers dare not say. 

A Sigh or Tear perhaps she'd give, 
But Love on Pity cannot live ; 
Tell her that Hearts for Hearts were made, 
And Love with Love is only paid : 
Tell her my pains so fast encrease, 
That soon they will be past Redress ; 
For ah ! the Wretch that speechless lies, 
Attends but Death to close his Eyes. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 




I lik'< 

Never saw a Face till now, 

That could my Passion move ; 
I lik'd and ventur'd many a Vow, 

But durst not think of Love : 
Till Beauty charming ev'ry Sense, 

An easie Conquest made ; 
And shew'd the vainess of Defence, 
When Phillis does Invade. 

But ah ! her colder Heart denies. 

The Thoughts her Looks Inspire ; 
And while in Ice that frozen lies, 

Her Eyes dart only Fire : 
Between Extreams I am undone, 

Like Plants to Northward set ; 
Burnt by too violent a Sun, 

Or Cold, for want of Heat. 


SONGS Compleat) 

i I i> irjrr,.? _ gqrf zzpifrtrprn: 

^Egzz^r^^z ^fe=trff 

"T^Ancelia's Heart is still the same, 

J7^ Hard and Cold as Winter's Morning, 

Tho' my Love is ever burning ; 

Yet no Frowns or Smiles can ever 

Melt her Ice, or cool my Fever, 

Melt her Ice, or cool my Fever. 

So long I talk and think of Love, 

All the Groves and Streams can Name her ; 

All the Nymphs and Ecchoes blame her, 

If she keeps her cruel Fashion, 

Nought but Death can ease my Passion. 

Of all the Charms that Lovers have, 
All the Sighs, the Groans, the Anguish, 
All the Looks with which I languish 
Moves not her to any Feeling, 
Beauty takes Delight in Killing. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 



FLY from Olinda Young and Fair, 
Fly from her soft engaging Air, 
And Wit in Woman found so rare ; 
Tho' all her Looks to Love advise, 
His yet unconquer'd Heart denies, 
And breaks the Promise of her Eyes. 

Waste not your Youth in Coy disdain, 
Hope not your Beauty's pleasing Reign, 
By ways of Rigour to maintain ; 
If we to Kings Obedience owe, 
Or to the Gods with Incense go, 
Tis for the Blessing they bestow. 



SONGS Compleat, 


ALL my past Life is mine no more, 
The flying Hours are gone, 
Like transitory Dreams giv'n o'er, 
Whose Images are kept in store, 
By Memory alone. 

Whatever is to come is not, 
How can it then be mine ? 

The present Moment's all my Lot, 

And that as fast as it is got, 
Phillis is only thine. 

Then talk not of Inconstancy, 
False Hearts and broken Vows ; 

If I by Miracle can be, 

This long-liv'd Minute true to thee, 
It's all that Heav'n allows. 

Pleasant and Diver tive. 307 


WHEN I see my Strephon languish, 
With Luanda's Charms opprest ; 
When I see his Pain and Anguish, 

Pity moves my tender Breast : 
Sighs so oft, and Tears so moving, 
Who can see and hold from Loving. 
Sighs so off, &c. 

Strephon's plain and humble Nature, 

Mov'd me first to hear his Tale ; 
Strep/ion's Truth by ev'ry Creature, 

Is proclaim'd through all the Vale : 
There's not a Nymph that wou'cl not chuse him, 
Why should I alone refuse him ? 

there's not, &c. 

x 2 A 


SONGS Compleat, 

A SONG. Set by Capt. PACK. 

T N vain she frowns, in vain she trys 

J^ The Darts of her disdainful Eyes ; 
She still is Charming, still is Fair, 
And must Love, tho' I Despair : 
Nor can I of my Fate complain, or her Disdain, 
Who would not die, to be so sweetly slain. 

Like those who Magick Spells employ, 

At distance wounds and does destroy ; 

She kills with her severe disdain, 

And absent I endure the pain : 

But spare, O spare your Cruel Art ! The Fatal Dart 

Stabs your own Image in your Lover's Heart 

Pleasant and Diver live. 309 


!___._ *_^IL^_J 

V * v_f C> 

LOvely Laurinda ! blame not me, 
If on your Beauteous Looks I gaze ; 
How can I help it, when I see 

Something so charming in your Face ! 
That like a bright unclouded Sky, 

When in the Air the Sun-beams play ; 
It ravishes my wandring Eye, 
And warms me with a pleasing Ray. 


3io SONGS Compleat, 

The Pilgrim. Tune by Mr. John Barrett. 

End with the 
First Strain. 

OH ! happy, happy Groves, Witness of our tender 
loves ; 

Oh ! happy, happy shade, where first our Vows were 

Blushing, Sighing, Melting, Dying, Looks would charm 

a Jove ; 

A Thousand pretty things she said and all was Love : 
But Corinna perjur'd proves, and forsakes the shady 

Groves ; 

When I speak of mutual Joys, she knows not what 

I mean, 

Wanton Glances, fond Caresses, now no more are seen 
Since the false deluding Fair left the flowry Green. 

Mourn ye Nymphs that sporting play'd, where poor 

Strephon was betray'd, 
There the secret Wound she gave, when I was made 

her Slave, 


Pleasant and Diver five. 

PILLYCOCK. Set by Mr. Tho. Wroth. 

Plllycock came to my Lady's Toe, 
And there the Whoreson began to go ; 
Had he Feet, 
Ay marry had he ? 
And did he go, 
Ay marry did he ? 
So bolt upright and ready to fight. 
And Pillycock he lay there all Night. 

Pillycock came to my Lady's Heel, 
And there the Whoreson began to feel ; 

Had he Hands, 

Ay marry had he ? 

And did he feel, 

Ay marry did he ? 
So bold upright ', &c. 

312 SONGS Compleat, 

Pillycock came to my Lady's shin, 
And there the Whoreson began to grin ; 

Had he Teeth, 

Ay marry had he ? 

And did he grin, 

Ay marry did he ? 
So bolt upright, &c. 

Pillycock came to my Lady's Knee, 
And there the Whoreson began to see ; 

Had he Eyes, 

Ay marry had he ? 

And did he see, 

Ay marry did he ? 
So bolt upright, &c. 

Pillycock came to my Lady's Thigh, 
And there the Whoreson began to fly ; 

Had he W T ings, 

Ay marry had he ? 

And did he fly, 

Ay marry did he ? 
So bolt upright, &c. 

Pillycock came to my Lady's 

And there the Whoreson began to hunt ; 

Had he Hounds, 

Ay marry had he ? 

And did he Hunt, 

Ay marry did he ? 
So bolt upright, &c. 

Pillycock came to my Lady's Quilt, 
And there the Whoreson began to Tilt ; 
Had he a Lance, 
Ay marry had he ? 
And did he Tilt, 
Ay marry did he ? 
So bolt upright and ready to fight, 
Pillycock he lay there all Night. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 

STREPHON and CHLORIS : Or, the Coy 
Shepherd and kind Shepherdess. 

He's fearful that his Flocks should go astray. 
And from her kind Embraces would away; 
But she with Charms doth him so fetter, 
That for to stay he finds it is better : 
When Flocks, and Herds, and Concerns do fail, 
Love must be satisfied, and will prevail. 


i I* P-0-\ == ^ l^-i r T^ ^~i I- T^T 


3 T 4 SONGS Compleat, 

A H ! Chloris awake, 
J-\^ It is all abroad Day, 
If you Sleep any longer, 

Our Flocks they will stray. 
Lye still, my dear Shepherd, 

And do not rise yet, 
'Tis a cold windy Morning, 

And besides it is wet. 

My Chloris make haste, 

For it is no such thing, 
Our Time we do waste, 

For the Lark is on Wing ; 
Besides I do fancy, 

I hear the young Lambs, 
Cry, Baa, baa, baa, baa, 

For the loss of their Dams. 

My Shepherd I come, 

Though I'm all over Sorrow ; 
But I swear I'll not love you, 

If you rise so to Morrow : 
For methinks 'tis unkind, 

Thus early to rise, 
And not bid me good Morrow, 

Brings Tears from my Eyes. 

Oh ! hark my dear Chloris, 

Before thou shalt Weep; 
I'll stay to embrace thee, 

Neglecting my Sheep : 
My Flocks they may wander, 

One Hour, Two, or Three : 
But if I lose thy Favour, 

1 ruin'd shall be. 

I joy my dear Shepherd, 

To hear thee say so ; 
It eases my Heart of 

Much Sorrow and Woe : 


Pleasant and Divertive. 315 

And for thy Reward, 

I will give thee a Kiss ; 
And then thou shalt taste, 

Of a true Lover's Bliss. 

But Chloris behold now, 

Bright Phcebus his Beams, 
Invites us to go 

To the murmuring Streams ? 
I hear the brave Huntsmen ; 

Doth follow the cry : 
And make the Woods ring, 

Yet how Sluggish am I. 

The Hounds and the Huntsmen 

May follow the Chace ; 
Whilst we enjoy Pleasure, 

In a far better Place : 
Thou know'st my dear Shepherd, 

There is no Delight ; 
Like Lovers Enjoyment, 

From Morning till Night. 

Alas ! my dear Chloris, 

What dost thou require ; 
The Care of my Flocks 

Doth abate my Desire : 
The Lambs are new Yeaned, 

And tender for Prey ; 
And I fear the sly Wolf, 

He should bear them away. 

My Love do not fear it, 

The Wolf he is fled, 
To take up his Lodging, 

In his mossy Bed. 
Then let me embrace thee, 

Whilst we do agree ; 
And I do promise to go, 

Thou shalt after be free. 


3 1 6 SONGS Compleat, 

Ah ! Chloris, thy Words, 

Are so powerful to me ; 
That I could be willing, 

To tarry with thee ; 
Therefore to content thee, 

One Hour I will stay, 
But I vow, by God Cupid, 

I will then go away. 

Now I have my Wishes, 

Dear Shepherd we'll part ; 
Altho' thou dost carry, 

Away my poor Heart : 
I bless the great Gods, 

That to Lovers are kind ; 
To bring us together, 

Such bliss for to find. 

Then farewel dear Chloris, 

Till I see thee again, 
For now 1 will haste to 

My Flocks on the Plain : 
Where I will record, 

Thy true Love in such Rhimes ; 
For Shepherds to admire, 

In succeeding times. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 

The long VOCATION : Or, a New Touch of 
the Times : With the Comical Humours 
never born Doctor, and the Mustek- 
House^ &c. 


N the long Vocation, 
When Business was scanty, 
t Cherries, and Whores, 
Extraordinary Plenty. 

When News came to England^ 
The best e'er was known, 

All our Armies Victorious, 
The French overthrown. 

When Quality withdrew 

To their Grotto's of Pleasure, 

And Ladies to the Wells, 

To spend their Lord's Treasure. 

When decripped old Sinners, 

To the Bath did resort, 
For venereal Distempers, 

As well as the Sport. 


3 1 8 SONGS Compleat, 

When the Red Robe was gone, 

To the Country Assizes, 
And Butchers, and Carmen, 

Were fighting of Prizes. 

When Orthodox also, 

From the Pulpit did roar ; 
Twas the Sins of the Nation, 

Maid our Taxes so sore. 

When young Golden Captains, 

Did walk the Parade ; 
But a draught once in motion, 

Were always afraid. 

When the Cits did retire, 

To their Country- Houses ; 
Leaving Servants at home, 

To lye with their Spouses. 

When Wives too would junket, 
While their Cuckolds did sleep : 

And spend more in a Night, 
Then they got in a Week. 

When high topping Merchants, 

VVere daily beset ; 
And Statutes of Bankrupts, 

Fill'd half our Gazet. 

When Lawyers had not Money, 

Nor Shop-keepers Trade ; 
And our Nation preparing 

Another to invade. 

When the Season was to hot, 

For the goggle ey'd Jews ; 
To exercise their Faculties, 

In Drury-Lane Stews. 


Pleasant and Diver five. 3 1 9 

When Inns of Court-Rakes, 

And Quill-driving Prigs, 
Flock'd to St. James's, 

To shew their long Whiggs. 

When Sodomites were so impudent, 

To ply on the Exchange; 
And by Day-light the Piazza's 

Of Covent-Garden to range. 

When the Theatre Jilts, 

Would S ve for a Crown ; 
And for want of brisk Trading, 

Patrol'd round the Town. 

When Debauches of both Sexes, 

From Hospitals crept ; 
Where Nine Months at least, 

In Flannel they slept. 

When Drapers smugg'd Prentices, 
With Exchange Girls most jolly ; 

After Shop was shut up, 
Could Sail to the Folly. 

When the Amorous Thimberkins, 

In Pater-noster-Row ; 
With their Sparks on an Evening, 

Could Coach it to Bow. 

When Poets and Players, 

Were so damnable poor ; 
That a Three-penny Ordinary, 

They often would Score. 

When De Foe and the Devil, 

At Leap-Frog did play ; 
And huffing proud Vintners, 

Broke every Day. 


320 SONGS Compleat, 

When Chamber-maids dress'd, 

In their Mistresses Cloaths ; 
Walk'd in ail Publick places, 

To Ogle the Beaus. 

When Tally-men had no Faith, 
With Strumpets and Whores ; 

But nap'd them in the Streets, 
By Dozens and Scores. 

When Informers were Rogues, 

And took double pay ; 
Much worse than the Persons, 

They are hir'd to betray. 

When Serjeants were so vigilant, 
'Twas impossible to shame 'em ; 

But whip see Jethro\ immediately, 
G Eternally D 'em. 

When Brewers to the Victuallers 

Was so cursed severe, 
They scarce would give Credit, 

For a Barrel of Beer. 

Thus is it not evident, 

Tap-lashes don't thrive ; 
Since they swarm in most Prisons, 

Like Bees in a Hive ? 

But you Blue Apron Tribe, 

Let this caution prevail ; 
Be not too Saucy, 

Lest you Rot in a Goal. 

At this Juncture of time, 

I strol'd to Moor- Fields; 
Much us'd by the Mob, 

To exercise their Heels. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 321 

Also fam'd for a Conjurer, 

The Devil's head Proctor 
Where a little below him, 

Dwells the never born Doctor, 

Two such Impudent Rascals, 

For Lying and Prating ; 
That the Series of their Lives, 

Is not worth my Relating. 

My Pockets being lin'd well, 

With Rhino good store ; 
And Inclinations much bent, 

After a thing calFd a Whore. 

To gratifie my Lust, 

I went to the Star ; 
Where immediately I espy'd, 

A Whore in the Bar. 

Whose Phiz was most charming, 

And as demure as a Saint ; 
But con ly bedaub'd, 

With Patches and Paint. 

Sweet Lady, cry'd I, 

I vow and protest ; 
The Sight of your Charms, 

Have so wounded my Breast. 

That I am downright in Love, 

And my Life shall Destroy ; 
If you do not admit me, 

Your Favour to enjoy. 

Cringing in her A 

The B then reply'd ; 

My favour, kind Sir, 

Shall never be deny'd. 

VOL. iv. Y Will 

322 SONGS Compleat, 

Will you please to walk up, 

Or be private below ; 
Here Boy, with a Bed in't, 

The Gentleman show. 

Then backwards we went, 

To a Cavern behind ; 
But such an intricate Place, 

The Devil could not find. 

Where Wine being brought, 
And the Fellow withdrawn ; 

I carest her with Love, 
She made a return. 

No Pigs in a Stye, 

Or Goats in Bad Weather ; 

E'er nussl'd so close, 

Or more Amorous together. 

We Kiss'd and we bill'd, 

We tickled and toy'd ; 
And more than once, 

Our selves we Enjoy'd. 

But the Reckoning grew high, 

Which would make my Pocket low ; 

So how for to Bilk 'em, 
I did not well know. 

But at last by a Stratagem, 

Pretending to rally ; 
While she went for more Wine, 

I whip'd into an Ally. 

And was so dexterous nimble, 

They could not pursue ; 
So got rid of my Mistress, 

And D Reckoning too. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 323 

Recovering the Fields, 

I was void of all Fear ; 
And the next place to Bedlam, 

My Course I did steer. 

Where was such amphibious Crowds, 

I ne'er saw before ; 
Harlots for the Water, 

As well as the Shore. 

But one above the rest, 

So wondrous Trim ; 
You would sware she was a Hick, 

And no common Brim. 

Accosted me presently, 

And call'd me her Love ; 
But I soon did dismiss her, 

With a Kick and a Shove. 

For the Jade was so homely, 

The D would not touch her ; 

Fit only for a Dray-man, 
Or White-Chappd Butcher. 

But had not walk'd long, 

Before a rare one I espy'd ; 
Bright as a Goddess, 

And adorn'd like a Bride. 

With a rich Furbelow Scarf, 

Worth at least Forty Shilling ; 
And when I ask'd her a Question, 

Was extraordinary willing. 

So to the Tavern we went, 

A Curse on the Place ; 
For her Love was so hot, 

It soon fir'd my A 

Y 2 Where 

324 SONGS Compleat, 

Where after a Flask, 

Which I swore she should pay ; 
We took both our leaves, 

And went strait away. 

The Plague of my Sins, 
Made me damnable sore ; 

That my Wife soon concluded, 
I'd been with a W . 

She scolded so loud, 

And continu'd her Clamour ; 

I could not forbear, 

But to C her and D her. 

We made such a Noise, 
And con ed a Racket ; 

My Landlady knew, 

I'd been searching the Placket. 

And being good natur'd, 
To make up the Matter ; 

Came down in her Smock, 
With Jenny her Daughter. 

Ah ! Tennant (quoth She,) 
Let this fault be remitted ; 

If he'll beg but your Pardon, 
He shall be acquitted. 

For to speak by the by, 

And I'm sure 'tis fact ; 
You and I have been guilty, 

Of many such Act. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 
An IRISH Wooing. 


~T~\rm0t lov'd Sheela well and strove her Heart to 
J^/ gain, 

No mortal Tongue can tell Dermofs great Pain ; 
And still he cry'd Sheela gra, Sheela joy, Sheela joy, 

Still he cry'd Sheela joy, wilt thou be mine. 

I have Six Sheep my Joy, Ten Goats and Twenty 

All dees I'll give to dee if doul't be mine ; 
And still he cry'd Sheela gra, Sheela joy, Sheela joy, 

Still he cry'd Sheela joy wilt thou be mine. 

I have Potatoes, and good bonny Clabber too, 

Ruscan and Cream joy, wherewith you may slabber 

Arra take me den, Sheela joy, Sheela joy, Sheela joy, 
Take me then, Sheela joy, and make me thine. 

Arra speak to me, Sheela joy, what makes thy Mout 

so dumb, 

If you will be wid me, squeese my great Thumb ; 
Arra squeese it dear Sheela joy, Shela joy, Sheela joy, 
Squeese it hard Sheela gra, till the Blood come. 


326 SONGS Compleat, 

A Warning to all CUSTARD Eaters. 

z: - l_n: 

LET Totnam Court and Islington, 
. And Padington also ; 
Attend with Lamentation, 
Unto a Tale of Woe. 

Altho' 'tis strange, 'tis true, no doubt, 

Of it you may be sure ; 
It is in the News-books put, 

There's nothing can be truer. 

Of many several sorts of Deaths, 

I oft have heard I wis ; 
But ne'er knew any lose his Life, 

By such a Cause as this. 

At Newbury that fatal place, 

Where many a Man was Muster'd ; 

And lost his Life, oh there it was, 
A Youth was slain with Custard. 

In that same Myrish bloody Fenn, 

As once it did appear : 
Ox Essex and his Custard-Men 

Did choak the Cavalier. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 327 

There liv'd this pretty dapper Youth, 

Who was of little Stature ; 
Shuffvizs his Name in very truth, 

And tender was his Nature. 

He with a Boy a Wager laid, 
A Custard he would Eat ; 

Before the Boy should run so far, 
And back again retreat 

The People all assembled were, 
To see this piece of Wit ; 

They were agreed, and started fair, 
This ran, the other bit 

The nimble Lad did run and laugh, 
So thro' the way he scowr'd ; 

That he was coming back, e'er half 
The Custard was devoured, 

The eating Champion seeing that, 
Much like Jack-puddings Bastard ; 

Clapt to'ther half into his Throat 
And choak'd himself with Custard. 

This suffocating Custard wrought, 

Within his gullet so ; 
That on the Ground he tumbled down, 

Ah woful overthrow ? 

Two-pence in Custard did him choak, 

And brought his Courage down ; 
When death struck him 'twas thought he took, 

The Cream of all the Town. 


328 SONGS Compleat, 

One spark of Fire consumes a House, 
Small Prison makes one pant \ 

The Sword-fish mortifies the Whale, 
The Mouse the Elephant. 

But never did I see that Throat, 
Under my Lord-Mayor's roof : 

Unless they brought it scalding hot, 
That was not Custard proof 

Let this a warning be to those, 

That go to Islington ; 
Custard will kill, Experience shows, 

As soon as any Gun. 

Beware how you on Holidays, 
Abroad do Feast your Wives ; 

For they that feed on Custard, go 
In danger of their Lives. 


To the Tune of. Turn again 
Whittington, &c. 

Under this Stone lies one, who writ his Finis ; 

and with a Trick of 's own, was kill'd with Kindness : 


Pleasant and Diver live. 329 

He dy'd in such a trim, no Death can match it, 

A Custard was to him, Pap with a Hatchet; 

He might as well have been brain'd with a Silk Fan, 

As to lose his Life in a lit tie Milk-pan ; 

Tho' the great Guns and Pikes have loudly bluster'd, 

There is no Weapon like long Spoon and Custard. 



SONGS Compleat, 

A DIALOGUE between DICK and DOLL. 

, ^-^-r o ^ -*- -^-^ 

^^|" ~" I * --LJT--- i I ' 

Pleasant and Divertive. 331 


Tenth Line of each Verse is to be left out at the 
Second time of Singing over. 

DOLLY, come be Brisk and Jolly, 
Since Harvest's home, 
And Ralph and Molly, 
With Piper and Drum ; 
Are frisking now at the Fair : 
Nimble Katy, whose Foot's so pretty, 


332 SONGS Compleat, 

No, nor Susan, with new Russet Shoes on, 
No, nor Ellen, with great Belly swelling, 

Can for Dancing with Dolly, compare, 

Zooks then prithee my sweetest Dear. 

She. Fye Dick, you make me so proud when you tell 


That none of our Lasses excel rre : 
Nay, Faith I can guess your Design too, 
With the Loss of your own you'd have mine too, 
But I hope I shall mend the Case : 

For toying and coying, 

Come short of enjoying, 

And tho' I let Loobies, 

Oft finger my Bubbies : 

Who think when they Kiss me, 

That they shall possess me, 

With slight Invitation, 

Fall to my Collation, 
Not a bit till the Priest has said Grace. 

He. Could you guess when first I Woo'd you, 

I thought of less, 

I close pursu'd you ; 

Abandon'd Bess, 
To gain dear Dolly's good Will, 
My Endeavours to please you ever, 
And to Marry sweet Doll of the Dairy, 
So by Kissing first nought will be missing, 
Grant a Tast till my Belly I fill, 
That, Ods Bud wou'd do rarely well. 

She. No, no, your cunning shall never deceive me, 
Should I let you, you'd presently leave me ; 
Tho' something you now may be wanting, 
The Appetite cloys with consenting, 
And the Passion does soon decay ; 

Tho' our Ears you wou'd tickle, 

We're false as you're fickle, 

And mind not your swearing 

False Oaths, and declaring, 


Pleasant and Divertive. 333 

Your amorous Nonsense, 
Nor Love dated long since : 
For by late Forbearance, 
I know by Experience, 
There's few till they're Bound will Obey. 

The SEA-FIGHT in 92. 
Set by Mr. AKEROYDE. 

iirprpip^P 1 * 1 

-rr F r~r^~t ~ H~ 
.^5^; EEE 


334 SONGS Compleat, 

THursday in the Morn the Ides of May, 
Recorded for ever the famous Ninety Two ; 
Brave Russel did discern by dawn of Day, 

The lofty Sails of France, advancing now : 
All Hands aloft, aloft, let English Valour shine, 
Let fly a Culverin, the Signal for the Line ; 
Let every Hand supply his Gun, 

Follow me, and you'll see, 
That the Battle will be soon begun. 

Tourville on the Main Triumphant rowl'd, 

To meet the Gallant Russel in combate on the 

He led the noble train of Heroes bold, 

To sink the English Admiral at his Feet : 
Now every valiant mind to Victory doth aspire, 
The bloody Fight's begun, the Sea it self on Fire ; 

And mighty Fate stood looking on, 
Whilst a Flood all of Blood, 

Fill'd the Scup'r-holes of the Royal Sun. 

Sulphur, Smoak and Fire, disturb'd the Air, 

With Thunder and Wonder affright the Gallick shoar; 
Their regulated bands stood trembling near, 

To see the lofty Streamers now no more : 
At Six a Clock the Red, the smiling Victors led, 
To give a second blow, the fatal overthrow ; 

Now Death and Horror equal reign, 
Now they cry, run or dye, 

Brittish Colours rid the vanquished Main. 

See they fly amaz'd through Rocks and Sands, 

One danger they grasp at to shun the greater Fate ; 
In vain they cry for aid to weeping Lands, 

The Nymphs and Sea-Gods mourn their lost estate : 
For evermore adieu thou Royal dazling Sun, 
From thy untimely end thy Masters Fate begun ; 

Enough thou mighty God of War, 
Now we Sing bless the King, 

Let us drink to every English Tarr. 


Pleasant and Diver live. 335 

The Honest Mans Fortune : Set by Mr. 
Thomas Wroth. 



336 SONGS Compleat, 

THE mighty state of Cuckoldom, by Matrimony 

It is a never failing Portion, paid us by our Wives ; 
It was of Old, 
As we are told, 
The Charter of each Nation ; 
In Palestine it did subdue, 
The Circumcis'd hard hearted Jew, 
And 'tis a Christian Dispensation. 

Each jarring Kingdom of the World, in this one point 


Thus Cuckoldom, may well be call'd th' united Pro 
vinces ; 

It does invest, 
With ample Crest, 
Min heer van pluchen Hans ; 
CUCKOLDS are made Grandees of Spain, 
And ev'n in Italy they reign, 

And they are Alamode of France. 

The Persian, Jew, Mahometan, the Protestant, and 


Owe what they are to the Intrigues and Kindness of a 
Woman ; 

What she's bestow'd, 
They count no load, 
Nor think their HORNS Oppression ; 
For sure no Sot can be so blind, 
As to esteem a Wife unkind, 

That largely adds to his Possession. 

Yet some will call poor Cuckolds Beasts, and range 

them in three Classes, 

The Goat- Cuckolds, the HLzm- Cuckolds, and we all 
know they're Asses ; 
The Goats ne'er mind, 
Their Horns behind, 
Large Crest the Ram adorns ; 
Which on his Brow in Terror lies, 
Hanging in Judgment o'er his E)es, 
And Asses take their Ears for HORNS. 


Pleasant and Divertive. 



^ i p j -fr 

POOR C7<a?*V<f thy Garlands tear, 
From off thy Widow'd Brow ; 
And bind thy loose dishevel'd Hair, 

With Ewe and Cypress now : 
And Since the Gods decreed his Years, 

Shou'd have so short a Date ; 
Let thy sad Eyes, pay Seas of Tears, 
As Tribute to his Fate. 

The Trees a duller Green have worn, 

Since that dear Swain is gone ; 
The tender Flocks their Pasture mourn, 

And bleat a sadder Moan : 
The Birds that did frequent these Groves, 

To happy Mansions fly ; 
And all that once smil'd on our Loves, 

Now seem to bid me die. 
VOL. iv. z 


SONGS Compleat, 

A SONG. Set by Mr. Leveridge, Sung by 
Mr. Wilks in the Comedy caltd the Re 
cruiting Officer. 

Pleasant and Divertive. 


Fair one be kind, you never shall find, 
A Fellow so fit for a Lover ; 
Come Fair one be kind, you never shall find, 

A Fellow so fit for a Lover : 
The World shall view my Passion for you, 
The World shall view my Passion for you, 

But never your Passion discover : 
The World shall view, my Passions for you, 

z 2 The 

340 SONGS Compleat, 

The World shall view my Passion for you, 

But never your Passion discover. 
I still will Complain of Frowns and Disdain, 

Tho' I revel thro' all your Charms ; 
I still will Complain of Frowns and Disdain, 

Tho' I revel thro' all your Charms : 
The World shall declare, I dye with Despair, 
I die with Despair, I die with Despair, 

When only I die in your Arms, 

When only I die in your Arms : 
I still will adore, Love more and more, 

But by Jove if you chance to prove Cruel, 
I'll get me a Miss, that freely will Kiss, 
I'll get me a Miss, that freely will Kiss, 

Tho' after I drink Water-gruel. 
P II get me, &c. 


Pleasant and Diver tive. 341 

T T ERE's a Health to those Men, 
J7J. That go with us again, 

To chuse Knights that can afford, Sir, 
To serve without Pension, 
Or other Pretension, 

But Just and Right is the Word, Sir. 

As for those that have Pay, 
We have nothing to say, 

Let the Soldier live by his Sword, Sir, 
We're for them that are known, 
To have Lands of their own, 

And Just and Right is the Word, Sir. 

Should we chuse the Court Tools, 
They will call us all Fools, 

Tho' a double Saint and a Lord, Sir, 
We are sure we can trust, 
To the Right and the Just, 

For Just and Right is the Word, Sir. 

Then take off your Glass fair, 
To do otherwise here, 

Is unjust against Right, and absurd, Sir ; 
He that leaves but three drops, 
Shall have them thrown in's Chops, 

For Just and Right is the Word, Sir. 


SONGS Compleat) 

PARE Mighty Love, O spare a Slave, 

That at th 7 Feet for Mercy lyes : 
hat would thy cruel Godhead have, 
See how he bleeds, see how he dyes : 
Upon a noble Conquest go, 
And for thy Glory and my Peace ; 

Pleasant and Divertive. 

O make the scornful Ccelia know, 

The Pains she now regardless sees. 
O make, &c, 

Dye all thy Arrows in my Tears, 

And subtly poyson so each Dart ; 
That spite of all those Arms she wears, 

The point at last may reach her Heart : 
Revenge, revenge the Wounds I bear, 

And make our Fortunes so agree, 
That I may find that Cure from her, 

Which she may need as much from me. 
That I may, &c. 


The Maid of 


SONGS Compleat, 


ON Brandon Heath, in sight of Methwold Steeple, 
In Norfolk as I Rode along, 
I met a Maiden with Apples laden, 

And thus, thus to her I urg'd my Song : 
Kiss me said I, She answer'd no, 
And still she cry'd I won't, I won't, I won't do so ; 
But when I did my Love begin, 

Quoth she good Sir ; quoth she good Sir, good Sir, I 
live in Lyn. 

'Twas Summer season then, and sultry weather, 

Which put this fair Maid in a Sweat ; 
Said I come hither, let us together, 

Go try to lay this scorching heat : 
But she deny'd, the more I cry'd, 

And answer'd no, and seem'd to go ; 
But when I did my Love begin, 

Quoth she good Sir, I live in Lyn. 

To Kiss this Maiden, then was my intent, 
.1 felt her Hand, and snowy Breast ; 
With much perswasion, she shew occasion, 

That I was free to do the rest : 
Then in we went and Six-pence spent, 

I cry'd my Dear, she cry'd forbear ; 
But when I did my Love begin, 

Quoth she good Sir, I live in Lyn. 

Three times I try'd to satisne this Maiden, 

And she perceiv'd her Lover's pain ; 
Then I wou'd go, but she cry'd no, 

And bid me try it o'er again : 


Pleasant and Divertive. 

She cry'd my Dear, I cry'd forbear, 
Yet e'er we parted fain wou'd know 

Where I might see this Maid again, 
Quoth she good Sir, I live in Lyn. 


The Beauty, a SONG made and Set to 
Musick by GEORGE KINGSLEY, Gent. 


SONGS Compleat, 

A Lass ! my poor tender Heart must now surrender, 
Since Love such a train of Artillery brings ; 
Such Graces and Glories attend my sweet Chloris, 
As are able to conquer and captivate Kings : 
Each lovely Feature, of this pure Creature, 
Creates a Cruel, cruel, cruel, cruel ling'ring smart : 
Her blushing Nose is as red as Rose is, 
Its glowing, glowing, glowing, glowing heat inflames my 


Pleasant and Divertive 347 

The Charms of her Eyes, what Tongue can tell, 

Of Which each Glance conveys a Spell ; 

And at distance they look like two Frogs in a Well, 

But oh ! the Balsamick scent of her Toes, 

And the Nectar that drops, drops, drops from her Nose; 

Hey ho, 
And a comfortable Gale from her Elbows : Hey ho, 

Hey ho, 
And still I cry in vain, O Love, O Love, O Love, 


Love, O Love, O Love, O Love, Love, Love, O Love, 
Come ease my Pain. 

But her Heart alass is as hard as a Flint, 

Let me dye if I thinknot the Devil is in't ; 

For always upon me she loooketh a squint : Hey ho, 

Yet Nature at least has served her right, 

In taking all her Teeth out quite : 

That tho' she can Bark, she cannot Bite, Hey ho, 

And indeed for this there was a just Cause, 

For according to blind Cupid's Laws, 

Love should have neither Fangs nor Claws, Hey ho. 

A Scotch SONG, the Words by Mr. John 
Hallam, Set to Musick by Mr. John 

*5~ - - ^ 1 jgfcgH- 


SONGS Compleat, 

te:^fIpq^> I fqi^ijafsS^ 

UPON the Wings of Love my Dear I come, 
No more I will depart from thee and Home ; 
The dreadful noise of Battles now do cease, 
Brave Willy is return'd with Joy and Peace : 
The Trumpet shrill no more shall sound Alarms, 
And call thy Jockey out of thy soft Arms ; 
In which I'll lig and sleep both Day and Night, 
And Dream of nought but Pleasures and Delight. 

Each bonny Lad shall with his loving Lass, 
With Pipe and Tabor trip it on the Grass ; 
With Chaplets gay my Jenny shall be crown'd, 
And with her Loving Jockey 'Dance around : 
In Silks and Sattins then my only dear, 
The Blithest Lass in Tweedale shall appear ; 
Thou shalt enjoy what e'er thou dost desire, 
And in each other's Arms we will expire. 

Pleasant and Diver live. 


A SONG, Set and Sung by Mr. LEVERIDGE, 
at the Theatre Royal. 


FOOLISH Swain thy sighs forbear, 
Nothing can her Passion move ; 
Calia with a careless Air, 
Laughs to hear the Tales of Love : 


350 SONGS Compleat, 

Darts and Flames the Nymph defies, 
Toys which other Hearts beguile : 

Pleasure sparkles in her Eyes, 
Gay without an am'rous Smile. 

Calia like the feather'd Choir, 

Ever on the Wing for flight ; 
Hops from this to that desire, 

Flutt'ring still in new delight : 
Pleas'd she seems when you are by, 

And when absent she's the same ; 
Talks of Love like you or I, 

But believ'st an empty Name. 

Always easy, never kind, 

When you think you have her sure : 
Such a Tempter you will find, 

Quick to wound, quick to wound, quick to 
wound, but slow to Cure, 

Pleasant and Divertive. 351 

A SONG, Set by Mr. Berenclow. 




SONGS Compleat. 




TAKE not the first Refusal ill, 
Tho' now she won't, anon she will, 
Tho' now she won't, anon she will, 
Take not the first Refusal ill : 
She were not a Woman if she knew, 
One Moment what the next she'd do ; 
She were not a Woman if she knew, 
One Moment, one Moment what the next she'd do : 
If you'll have patience she'll be kind, kind, she'll be 


To Day ne'er knew to morrow's Mind ; 
Wait till you find her in the cue, 
If you don't ask her, ask her, she, she'll ask you. 



D'Urfey, Thomas 
Songs compleat